


Petrichor

by DovahkiinEowyn



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alcohol Mentions, Cross-Posted on Quotev, F/F, Fluff, Skyrim Dawnguard spoilers, Skyrim Dragonborn spoilers, Skyrim Spoilers, connecting one-shots, hella gay, mention of sexual harassment in Chapter 10
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:01:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 36,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28584645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DovahkiinEowyn/pseuds/DovahkiinEowyn
Summary: Vigdis' life has been rather rough, with too many unexpected turns--but she somehow signs up with the Dawnguard, and finally has a chance to track down and exact revenge on her father's murderer. She's not the only one that's surprised when she starts to fall in love along the way--and when she realises that she houses an ancient power deep inside herself. || This story is written in one-shot form because I don't have the time or the energy to flesh out a full fan-fiction. Maybe one day.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Serana
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	1. Laid to Rest

**-[ <>]-Vigdis' Point of View-[<>]-**

_“You wanna prove yourself? Head over to Morthal_. _You’re bound to find somethin’ to do there.”_

Vigdis stepped over the threshold of the marshy settlement as old snow crunched under her feet. Masser and Secunda hung high in the cold night sky and loomed over Morthal. Torches were scattered about the village as guards patrolled its borders. The atmosphere was tense and unsettling; although the people of Morthal had long retreated into their homes, the anxiety in the air was so thick Vigdis could almost swallow it. She had heard of the rumours on her way here—about the house that had been burned down with the family still inside—but they didn’t really prepare her for the uneasiness that engulfed the village and its inhabitants.

She sighed quietly before she approached the Jarl’s longhouse. A guard stepped in front of her as soon as she reached the steps, and she glared at him menacingly.

“Only burglars and vampires creep around after dark,” he told her gravely. “So which are you?”

Vigdis raised her eyebrow. His words baffled and even insulted her; sure, it was odd that she had arrived in the middle of the night, but did she really deserve the judgement? She thought not.

“What? You don’t want my help?”

He stiffened. “Help?”

“Yes,” she responded with a snarl, _“help_. Is Morthal allergic to it?”

“We don’t need _help_ from an outsider like you.”

Vigdis growled and shook her head. She firmly placed her hand on his shoulder and shoved him roughly out of her way. She clicked in her tongue in disappointment and approached the door, which opened with a gentle push. She stepped inside and shivered as her body adjusted to the warmer temperature thanks to the fire in the center of the longhouse. It surprised her that the Jarl—Idgrod Ravencrone, if she recalled correctly—was awake. The old and dark-haired woman lounged in her chair with a tired expression and stared straight at Vigdis, as if she knew that she would come. It seemed that the Jarl’s abilities to foresee the future were indeed real; Vigdis walked up to her, unafraid.

“So,” the woman began with a meek smile, “life has brought you to Morthal, and to me. What purpose this serves, we will no doubt see. Welcome.”

“You really foresaw our meeting, then?” Vigdis inquired.

Jarl Idgrod chuckled. “The Divines reveal things to me at times, yes. I do not hide this. It is a gift. Anyone who believes otherwise does not and cannot understand it.”

“I see.” Vigdis paused, then decided she should get straight to the point. “Morthal seems rather tense.”

The seer’s expression became grim, and she sighed. “That which is unknown can create unease, even fear.” She shifted her position and nodded her head knowingly. “It is to be expected.”

It took every ounce of Vigdis’ willpower to not roll her eyes. She hated it when people were so damn vague, especially when it was obvious that there was something to be resolved.

“Is there a problem?” she asked impatiently. “I heard about the house that burned down.”

The Jarl’s eyes narrowed at the question, a sign that it was a bit of a taboo topic. “Hroggar’s house? He lost his wife and daughter in the blaze.” She momentarily closed her eyes and shrugged. “My people believe it to be cursed now. Who am I to gainsay them?”

“What happened?”

“Hroggar blamers his wife for spilling bear fat in the fire.” Her voice lowered into a gravelly tone. “Many folk think he set the fire himself.”

Vigdis’ eyebrows furrowed. “He murdered his own family?”

“Lust can make a man do the unthinkable. The ashes were still warm when he pledged himself to Alva.”

“And you haven’t arrested him because . . . why?”

“Arrest him? On rumour and gossip? No.” Jarl Idgrod’s eyes lit up with an idea. “But you—a stranger—could find the truth. Sift through the ashes others are too fearful to touch, see what they tell you. Should you prove him guilty or innocent, I will reward you.”

Vigdis bowed her head in respect before she left the longhouse. She breathed in the cool night air as she took in her surroundings again. The Jarl had wanted her to search the burned house, but Vigdis had her own way of doing things that didn’t require messing with ghosts.

She made a quick trip to the tavern and, after she spent several minutes intimidating the barkeeper, figured out which house belonged to Alva. Under the cover of the deep night, Vigdis walked up to the house, picked the lock, and snuck inside. She had to hold back a snicker when she saw Hroggar snoring away on the bed to her right. She quietly made her way to the stairs and descended them, then opened the door.

Luckily for her, the coffin in the center of the room was empty. She approached it carefully, then spotted a diary laying inside and picked it up. She skimmed its contents, and quickly found the information she was looking for: Alva had been turned by a vampire named Movarth, who resided in the cave nearby. She assumed that’s where Alva was now. The diary mentioned Alva turning a woman named Laelette, but she wound have to deal with that after destroying the main source of the problem.

Vigdis left just as swiftly and silently as she had entered. Hroggar was still obnoxiously snoring—some guard he was.

After she crossed the stone bridge and reached the edge of the marshes, she scanned them with her eyes and exhaled slowly. The adrenaline rush she felt before starting a hunt was always the most invigorating feeling for her; it made her fingers twitch and her eyes sharpen, her breathing shallowed and her blood warm. Movarth would be a difficult foe, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

She rested her hand on the hilt of her sword, then trudged off into the marshes.

“Hroggar was enslaved by Alva,” Vigdis began, handing the diary to the Jarl, “and she had been turned by a master vampire named Movarth Piquine. I’ve dealt with her and Movarth and their . . . associates, although Laelette was not among them. I burned the bodies for good measure.”

Jarl Idgrod stared at Vigdis, her eyes wide with shock. “You . . . Who are you? You have my gratitude, of course, and you will be rewarded as I promised. But . . .”

Vigdis couldn’t hold back the smirk that curled her lips. The Jarl couldn’t perceive everything, it seemed. “I’m with the Dawnguard, my Jarl. Disposing of vampires is my calling.”

“Ah. I see.” She turned and motioned her head to her steward, who approached Vigdis and gave her a nice fat purse of gold Septims. “Thank you. I didn’t think you could do it, but Morthal owes you a debt. If any future problems arise, I will send for you.”

Vigdis nodded and, without another word, left the longhouse. She began her long trek towards Fort Dawnguard and grinned to herself, for she had definitely secured a place for herself among the Dawnguard’s ranks. She had set a new course for her life, and she was ready to face any challenges that would come her way.


	2. An Unexpected Introduction

**-[ <>]-** **Vigdis' Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

Vigdis wasn’t sure what she was expecting—but it most definitely was not _this_.

Her ice-blue eyes widened as the sarcophagus slid open and revealed a woman inside. A sharp gasp escaped the hunter as the mysterious fell to the ground on her hands and knees; she didn’t move to help, as the woman seemed to regain her strength and slowly stood up.

“Uhh . . .” the dark-haired woman groaned as she crossed her arms over her chest and kept her eyes shut. “Where is . . . Who sent you here?”

Vigdis hesitated to answer the strange woman. It was an odd question to ask after she just witnessed her collapse to the floor. In the end, the vampire hunter decided to humour her. She needed some answers herself.

“Who were you expecting?” she asked, keeping her tone neutral and cold.

The woman’s eyes fluttered open and she frowned. “I was expecting someone . . . like me, at least.”

Vigdis’ observed the woman’s eyes and tensed when she recognised the persimmon hue. She clutched the hilt of her sword but hesitated to unsheathe it. “You’re a—”

“Vampire,” the woman interrupted. “Yes.”

Vigdis fell quiet again, her fingers still wrapped around her weapon. Something about her made the vampire hunter reluctant to go with her normal harsh and brazen interrogation route—even worse, she was unsure if she should just slay the damn creature. Is that not what Isran would have done? But she was obviously of some significance to the other vampires, and it would be valuable to know why . . . After a long moment, she decided she would be more curious and inquisitive. It was better to be cautious than to risk losing important information, especially after she spent so much time travelling to Dimhollow Crypt and infiltrating it.

“Why were you locked away?”

The vampire seemed reluctant to answer, and it showed in her voice. “That’s . . . complicated. And I'm not totally sure if I can trust you.” She unfolded her arms, her expression resigned. “But if you want to know the whole story, help me get back to my family's home.”

Vigdis was surprised by the request but tried quickly suppressed her emotion. “Where is it?”

“My family used to live on an island to the west of Solitude. I would guess they still do. By the way . . .” The woman grinned, although Vigdis almost didn’t see it. “My name is Serana. Good to meet you.”

The vampire hunter committed the name to memory before she ran her fingers through her hair in thought. She had no idea what to make of the atmosphere that enveloped her and the vampire—more so, she found it strange that she was in a merciful mood and that the vampire was willing to be friendly towards her. She decided to press the vampire some more.

“Who imprisoned you here?” she asked.

“I'd . . . rather not get into that with you, if that's all right. I'm sorry, it's not that . . .” Serana sighed. “It's just that I don't know who I can trust yet. Let's get to my home, and I'll have a better sense of where we all stand.”

Vigdis nodded, accepting her response for the time being. She tried a different question. “How long were you in there?”

Serana placed a hand on her hip, her head tilted in thought as her eyebrows furrowed with uncertainty. “Good question. Hard to say. I . . . I can't really tell.” She folded her arms over her chest again, her frown deepening. “I feel like it was a long time. Who is Skyrim's High King?”

Vigdis couldn’t contain the snort that escaped her. “Currently it’s a matter of debate.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Serana responded dryly yet jokingly. “A war of succession. Good to know the world didn't get boring while I was gone. Who are the contenders?”

“Skyrim is split between supporting Ulfric and supporting the Empire.”

“Empire?” Serana’s expression changed to one of bewilderment. “What . . . What Empire?”

“Er . . .” Now Vigdis felt confused. “The . . . Empire. From Cyrodiil.”

“Cyrodiil is the seat of an empire?” When Vigdis nodded, Serana shook her head. “I must have been gone longer than I thought. Definitely longer than we planned. I need to get home so I can figure out what's happened.”

Vigdis stared at her for a long while in disbelief— _just how old was this woman?_ —before she gestured around the giant cavern sarcastically. “Any idea how to get out of here?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Serana told her. Her grin looked sheepish. “This place looks pretty different from when I was locked away.”

“We’ll find a way,” the vampire hunter grumbled. Then she noticed the giant scroll sticking out from the vampire’s back. “Is that an Elder Scroll?”

“Yes, it is,” Serana answered defensively, narrowing her eyes. “And it’s mine.”

Vigdis sensed that the conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere she wanted and dropped the subject immediately. She stepped to the side and glanced around the stone sarcophagus. Although it was a little hard to see thanks to the darkness of the cavern, she could discern that there was another entrance. She turned to the vampire and motioned her head towards what she hoped was an exit.

“Let’s go.”


	3. Hereafter

**-[ <>]-Vigdis' Point of View-[<>]-**

“Your home . . . tell me about it.”

Serana’s eyes glanced away from the fire and met Vigdis’. They had stopped for the night in the middle of the snow-covered woods since they still had a long journey ahead of them. After they had begun to head in the direction of her home, Serana had tried to suggest that they find a town that could lend them horses—but Vigdis quickly shot down her idea; the hunter told her that risking her vampiric identity for some horses was out of the question and to not bring it up again. They had traversed much of Haafingar’s snowy region for a long while, and finally stopped soon after the sun disappeared from the horizon. Vigdis was efficient with setting up the camp and had a fire going within a few minutes. They had been sitting in silence for quite a long time, and Vigdis could see Serana’s surprised expression after she finally broke it.

“Like I said, it’s on an island near Solitude,” Serana told her, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes went back to watching the fire, her irises matching the flames. “Hopefully we can find a boat to take us there. It’s my family home and not the most welcoming place—but depending on whose around, I’ll be safe there.”

Vigdis took a long moment to process the vampire’s words and noticed how uncertain she sounded. “Why wouldn’t you be safe?”

Serana sighed. “Let’s just say that my mother and father had a bit of a falling out.” Finally, her eyes moved to stare at Vigdis again. The vampire hunter could tell that she was wearing her worry on her face because Serana started to smile. “Don’t worry, I'm not in any danger or anything like that. It’ll just be more unpleasant to run into my father.”

“I assume you don’t want to see him?” Vigdis asked quietly. She felt so invasive, but the vampire was being so open that it was hard to hold in her questions.

“My father and I don’t really get along.” Serana grimaced as she chuckled dryly. “Ugh, saying it out loud makes it sound so . . . _common_. ‘Little girl who doesn’t get along with her father.’ Read that story a hundred times.”

Vigdis cracked a small smile before she began to observe the fire, and her smile disappeared as quickly as it had shown itself. She thought of her own father and reflected on her memories of him for what felt like a long time. When she finally snapped out of her reverie, she cleared her throat.

“You mentioned finding a boat to take to the island,” she said, turning to Serana. “Where could we find a boat?”

Serana frowned. “Hmm. I hadn’t thought that far.” She tilted her head. “The island has a dock next to the abandoned watchtower. I always assumed that there was one just like it across the water on the mainland.”

Vigdis shrugged. She didn’t like the vampire’s answer, but it would have to do. If it didn’t work out, she already had another idea in mind, just in case.

“We’ll see when we get there.” She paused, for she realized that the vampire might think she was on her side—something she needed to clear up now. “You’re aware that I’m from the Dawnguard, right?”

“That’s . . . not a name I know,” the vampire replied slowly, her expression wary. Vigdis figured that she could probably sense that the hunter had become guarded. “And it doesn’t sound like a name a group of vampires would choose.”

“Because we’re not a group of vampires,” Vigdis deadpanned. “We’re vampire _hunters_.”

Silence fell as they stared at each other, frozen and tense. Vigdis couldn’t read Serana’s expression anymore, and it made her nervous enough to be ready to draw her sword in an instant if she needed to. From her experiences, a vampire hunter such as herself could never really know when a vampire was going to strike, and it never hurt to always be prepared.

“If you’re a vampire hunter, why haven’t you killed me yet?” The vampire’s voice was bitter, yet Vigdis could detect a hint of sadness in it. Why it was there, she didn’t know—and as of right now, she didn’t care.

“I was sent to Dimhollow Crypt to find out what the vampires were after,” she responded smoothly. “And because I came out of that cave with more questions than answers, I’m taking you home to find my other answers.”

Unbeknownst to the vampire, the hunter purposely left out another reason—that Serana was clearly very old and very powerful, and Vigdis wasn’t sure it was wise to fight against her alone. She was certain that Isran would hang her later for not delivering Serana and her Elder Scroll directly to them, but obtaining information was far more important than throwing her life away for honour’s sake—which was something she never believed in doing anyway.

“And if I don’t have all the answers?” Serana retorted. “What then?”

Vigdis snorted. “You really think I’m stupid enough to try to take on your entire clan? By myself?”

The vampire opened her mouth to respond, then quickly shut it. It seemed that the hunter’s response surprised her and left her speechless. Vigdis shook her head and allowed her guard to drop just a little. Exhaustion was beginning to set in her bones after all that walking, and she needed to sleep.

“Don’t try anything,” she mumbled to the vampire as she moved over to a tree and leaned her back against it. “I’ll know if you do.”

The corner of her lip twitched in amusement when Serana rolled her eyes and huffed at the threat. The vampire stayed next to the fire, and eventually, Vigdis closed her eyes and fell into a light sleep.

They arrived at the isolated dock Serana had mentioned a few days later. The hunter considered them extremely lucky that it existed, and that a spare boat had been left there—almost as if someone expected them to need it. There was a keep nearby, and Vigdis kept a watchful eye on its activity in case the soldiers decided to come out and question them—luckily, they didn’t seem to notice their presence. Vigdis also noticed the giant castle on the island in the distance—she found herself doubting that it was the exact one Serana had been talking about, but climbed into the boat and began to row towards it without question. Seeing that Serana didn’t object, she assumed that she had made the right call, and thought that perhaps her home was hidden behind it. When they arrived, she couldn’t help but gape at the castle’s fantastical magnitude.

“This is your home?” Vigdis asked as they stepped onto the shore, her voice thick with disbelief.

“This is it,” Serana confirmed. “Home sweet . . . castle.”

“You didn’t mention it’s size.”

“I didn't want you to think I was one of those . . .” Serana seemed to struggle with finding the right words, which slightly amused Vigdis. “You know, the women who just sit in their castle all day? I don't know. Coming from a place like this, well . . .” The vampire glanced up at the castle again with a frown. “It’s not really me. I hope you can believe that.”

The hunter smirked at that and was about to turn away when she noticed Serana biting her lip. Concern blossomed and she couldn’t resist asking. “Are you all right?”

“I think so,” Serana answered with a half-smile. “And thanks for asking.” Her smile faded and her expression turned serious. “I know your friends would probably want to kill everything in here. I'm hoping you can show some more control than that. Once we’re inside, just keep quiet for a bit. Let me take the lead.”

Vigdis nodded. Then she turned and began to walk up Castle Volkihar’s bridge with Serana in tow. She could only hope that her answers were waiting inside.


	4. The Reclusive Cannibal Cult

**-[ <>]-Vigdis' Point of View-[<>]-**

“My lord—everyone! _Serana has returned!_ ”

Vigdis and Serana shared a glance—the hunter’s being wary, whereas the vampire’s was more surprised and confused.

“I guess I’m expected,” she told Vigdis with a shrug. Vigdis sighed quietly and shook her head. She didn’t like the grim premonition that was growing in her gut, but she followed Serana into the main hall anyway.

And immediately regretted it.

The smell of blood was overwhelming enough, but she wasn’t prepared for the sight of it. She was so sickened by what she saw that her feet were momentarily planted to the top of the stairs as she fully absorbed her surroundings: a grand hall, drenched in blood and flooded with an entire clan of vampires that ravenously feasted on the drained corpses laid out before them. They paused their bloody banquet and lifted their heads to watch Serana as she descended the stairs—and it was when they turned their stares towards her that snapped Vigdis out of her stupor. She took a moment to pull herself together before she joined Serana, her fists tightly clenched at her sides.

“My long-lost daughter,” a deep, powerful voice began, “returns . . . at last. I trust you have my Elder Scroll?”

Vigdis tensed as a tall, dark-haired man stepped from the shadows. He carried himself with an air of superiority and royalty. If Serana’s apparent age didn’t tell the vampire hunter anything, her father definitely did—and for once in her life, Vigdis felt afraid. Her nails were digging so deeply into her palm that she had to loosen them, afraid that she would cut her skin and cause the vampires to go into a frenzy.

“After all these years, that’s the first thing you ask me?” Serana retorted, hurt faintly laced in her voice. To Vigdis’ surprise, the vampire kept her composure. “Yes, I have the scroll.”

“Of course I’m delighted to see you, my daughter. Must I really say the words aloud?” He crossed his arms over his chest and stroked his beard, a twisted grimace on his face. “Ah, if only your traitor mother were here—I would let her watch this reunion before putting her head on a spike.” Then, he turned to Vigdis—whose blood went cold at his stare—and gestured grandly to her. “Now, who is this _stranger_ you have brought into our hall?”

“This my savior,” Serana said quietly, “the one who freed me.”

He nodded. His attention was now fully and solely focused on Vigdis. She felt like small and easy prey under his intense gaze, and she loathed it. “For my daughter’s safe return, you have my gratitude. Tell me . . . What is your name?”

“You first,” Vigdis responded coldly. She may have lost her internal nerve, but she was going to do her damnedest to not show it to the rest of the vampires—especially him.

“Very well. I am Harkon, lord of this court. By now my daughter will have told you what we are.”

Vigdis glanced around the courtroom briefly before she answered in a flat tone. “You’re a reclusive cannibal cult.”

Surprisingly, he seemed rather amused by that answer. “Not quite, though I can see how an outsider might arrive at that conclusion.” He began to pace back and forth; if he could encircle her like a starved vulture, she had no doubt that he would. She wasn’t going to give him that pleasure, though, and his pacing was already putting her on an uneasy edge. “No, we are vampires, among the oldest and most powerful in Skyrim. For centuries we lived here, far from the cares of the world. All that ended when my wife betrayed me and stole away that which I valued most.”

“And my reward for finding your daughter?”

“I was about to suggest that very thing,” Harkon mused. “Yes, you most certainly deserve a reward. There is but one gift I can give that is equal in value to the Elder Scroll and my daughter.” He opened his arms. “ _I offer you my blood_. Take it, and you will walk as a lion among sheep. Men will tremble at your approach, and you will never fear death again.”

Her stomach clenched in fear and revulsion. Become the thing she hated the most? The monster that slaughtered her father and left her to die all those years ago? No—she would rather die.

“If I refuse?” she asked quietly.

His expression darkened and he dropped his arms. “Then you will be prey, like all mortals. I will spare your life this once, but you will be banished from this hall.” His eyes seemed to flash dangerously. “Perhaps you still need convincing? _Behold the power!”_ Harkon hunched over, his form overcome with thick blood before he burst forth from his liquid shell into a monster that Vigdis had never seen before. His skin had turned pale blue, his hair was long and white, and he had sprouted thin and bony wings; he hovered off the ground with no effort. “ _This_ is the power that I offer! Now, make your choice!”

Vigdis gritted her teeth. She could feel the stares of the entire court on her. They waited for her answer. The choice was easy.

“No. I refuse.”

“So be it,” Harkon snarled. “You are prey, like all mortals. _I banish you!_ ”

He shot a spell from his clawed hand and her vision blurred before it darkened entirely. When she came to, she found herself beside the abandoned watchtower. She struggled to stand for several moments; the world around her still spun as she climbed into the boat. She glanced towards the castle one last time as the spell wore off and found herself hoping that Serana would be all right. With a sigh and a shake of her head, she rowed back towards the mainland.

Isran was going to kill her.


	5. Allied

**-[ <>]-Vigdis' Point of View-[<>]-**

“In the meantime, we're going to get to the bottom of why a vampire showed up here looking for you. Let's go have a little _chat_ with it, shall we?”

Vigdis blinked, confused. A vampire? Here? Looking for her? Isran liked to leave her with a lot of questions, and she hated it. She ignored the stares from Gunmar and Sorine and ascended the spiral staircase. She tried to think of who the vampire could be, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. She followed Isran into his bedroom, then went into the torture room adjacent to it. Her eyes widened when her gaze met Serana’s—the last person she expected to see. She couldn’t recall how many months had passed since she went to Volkihar Castle—and that would mean it had been a very long time since she had even thought about the incident or the vampire in question.

“This _vampire_ showed up while you were away,” he grunted. “I'm guessing it’s the one you found in Dimhollow Crypt some time ago. Says it’s got something really important to say to you.” He turned to Serana, his eyes like daggers. “So, let’s hear it.”

The vampire grimaced at Isran’s words but turned her attention to Vigdis. Her eyes seemed to light up when she did so. “You probably weren’t expecting to see me again.”

“Serana,” Vigdis breathed out in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“I’d rather not be here either, but I needed to talk to you. It’s important, so please just listen—before your friend here loses his patience.” She paused and bit her lip, as if uncertain. “It’s . . . Well, it’s about me. And the Elder Scroll that was buried with me.”

“What about you?”

The vampire crossed her arms over her chest. “The reason I was down there . . . and why I had the Elder Scroll. It all comes back to my father. I’m guessing you figured this part out already, but my father’s not exactly a good person—even by vampire standards. He wasn’t always like that, though.” Her face became crestfallen. “There was . . . a turn. He stumbled onto this obscure prophecy and just kind of lost himself in it.”

Vigdis furrowed her brow. “Lost himself? How?”

“He just became absorbed . . . Obsessed. It was kind of sick, actually. The prophecy said that vampires would no longer need to fear the sun. For someone who fancied himself as vampire royalty, that’s pretty seductive.” She shook her head. “Anyway, my mother and I didn’t feel like inviting a war with all of Tamriel, so we tried to stop him. That’s why I was sealed away with the Scroll.”

Vigdis stayed quiet as she processed the information. She exhaled slowly and gazed into Serana’s persimmon eyes. “You took a big risk coming here, you know. They could’ve killed you.”

“I know. But something about you makes me think I can trust you.” She seemed hesitant and put her hand on her hip. “I hope I’m not wrong.”

“No,” Vigdis said quickly, “you’re not. We just . . . We have to convince the others that you’re on our side.”

“Well let’s move then,” Serana responded confidently with a smirk. “I’m nothing if not _persuasive_.”

Isran sighed loudly, which caught Vigdis’ attention and she turned to him with her arms crossed to hide her awkwardness at the sudden interruption. He was going to be the hardest to persuade.

“All right, you’ve heard what it has to say.” His eyes burned with hatred. “Now tell me: is there any reason I shouldn’t kill this bloodsucking fiend right now?”

“Were you not listening?” Vigdis retorted. “We _need_ her help.”

“Why, because of that story about the prophecy? About some vampire trying to put the sun out? Do you actually believe any of that?”

Vigdis felt her expression harden and her muscles tense. Her voice was snarled and sharp. “Yeah, I fucking do believe her. You weren’t there, Isran. You didn’t meet Harkon and feel his power. Can’t you set your hatred aside for once?”

“Set my hatred aside?” he growled. “Not a chance. It’s what keeps me strong.”

“Look. She risked her life to come here. I trust her, so you need to trust _me_.”

Isran stared at her long and hard. Vigdis was ready to argue with him some more, but then he spoke.

“You’d better know what you’re doing,” he grumbled. “It can stay for now, but if it so much as lays a _finger_ on anyone here, I’ll hold you responsible. Got it?”

She nodded her head in understanding. Then he turned to Serana, his tone low and threatening.

“You hear me? Don’t feel like a guest, because you’re not. You’re a resource; you’re an asset. In the meantime, don’t make me regret my sudden outburst of tolerance and generosity. Because if you do, your _friend_ here is going to pay for it.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” she replied sarcastically. “I’ll remember it the next time I’m feeling hungry.” The hunter pressed her lips together to hold back her laugh. She turned to Vigdis, her expression almost sheepish. “So in case you didn’t notice the giant thing on my back . . . I have the Elder Scroll with me.”

“How did you manage that?” Vigdis asked, genuinely surprised.

“I have my ways. Whatever it says, it will have something that can help us stop my father. But of course, neither of us can read it.”

“Well, somebody can. Right?”

Serana nodded. “Yeah, but the Moth Priests are the only ones I’ve heard of who can do it. They spend years preparing before they start reading, though. Not that it helps us anyway, because they’re half a continent away . . . _in Cyrodiil_. _”_

“Some Imperial scholar arrived in Skyrim a few days ago,” Isran said, shocking Vigdis. She wasn’t expecting him to actually try to help them out—and in all honesty, she had forgotten that he still stood there. “I was staking out the road when I saw him pass by. Maybe that’s your Moth Priest.”

“Do you know where he’s staying now?” Serana asked.

“No, and I’m not going to waste men looking,” he told her firmly. Vigdis rolled her eyes, because _of course_ he wasn’t going to be as helpful as she had hoped. “We’re fighting a war against your kind, and I intend to win it. You want to find him, try talking to anyone who’d meet a traveler. Innkeepers and carriage drivers in the big cities, maybe. But you’re on your own.”

Isran shook his head, then promptly exited the torture room, which left Vigdis and Serana alone. Vigdis couldn’t help but feel more relaxed and relieved now that he was officially gone.

“Any idea how you’re going to find a Moth Priest?” Serana asked, pulling the hunter out of her thoughts. “Skyrim’s a pretty big place.”

Vigdis frowned—for once, she truly had no idea where to start. “No. Do you have any ideas?”

“Well, back before I . . .” She shrugged and gestured to herself with her hands before she crossed her arms over her chest. “You know. The College of Winterhold was the first place I’d think to go for any kind of magic or historical thing. The wizards know about all kinds of things that people shouldn’t know about.”

“Do you know _anything_ about Elder Scrolls? Anything at all that could help us?”

“I mean . . .” Serana thought for a moment. “As much as anyone. Not a lot. You’d figure a couple hundred years locked away with one would have given me some insights, but no.” She sighed. “Turns out you don’t learn much from just sleeping with something.”

Vigdis smirked. “Are you suggesting you want to learn more about me?”

“Not at this rate, no,” the vampire deadpanned, though she had a playful glint dancing in her eyes that died just as quickly as it had appeared. “Actually, now that I think of it . . . I’m going to come along with you. I’ve been really wanting to get out and explore a bit.”

“You’re welcome to come along,” Vigdis told her sincerely, which was new for her. “Just try to stay behind me, if you can. I’m not used to having company.”

Serana frowned. “Are you usually alone?”

“Yeah.” The vampire hunter shrugged. “I don’t mind it. And I don’t mind you coming along.”

“Oh . . . If you say so.”

Vigdis scratched her head, then sighed. “Come on. Let’s go find our Moth Priest.”


	6. Roads Less Travelled

**-[ <>]-Vigdis' Point of View-[<>]-**

Windhelm was still as cold and as bleak as ever.

Vigdis had decided to go with Serana’s idea and visit the College of Winterhold to try to obtain any information on their Moth Priest. The journey from Fort Dawnguard to Winterhold was excruciatingly long, and the challenges they have had to face so far just to get to Windhelm had been draining; they had been attacked by vampires and bandits and wild animals along the road, and Vigdis was tired of camping in the woods for once. It was the vampire’s idea to stop in Windhelm for a couple of nights after they saw a post with several pointed signs on it. Windhelm was sort of on the way to Winterhold anyway, and the hunter was desperate to sleep on a proper bed. They had decided to stay for two nights, and Vigdis spent the first day sleeping as much as she could. She hadn’t bothered to keep tabs on Serana—she trusted her to not kill anyone at the very least.

But the second night . . . the atmosphere felt different. Vigdis was well rested and more awake than usual, and she couldn’t help but notice Serana’s still form that sat on a chair in the corner of the room. The distance was probably more in consideration for Vigdis’ safety, but the idea made her internally snort—she was _more_ than capable of taking care of herself. The more she stared, however, the more her curiosity bloomed—until she could no longer keep it to herself.

“What were you like before you became a vampire?” she asked quietly.

Serana winced at the question, which made Vigdis almost regret bringing it up. “That’s . . . a long story.”

The hunter adjusted herself on the bed. “Tell me anyway.”

The vampire sighed and tucked some of her hair behind her ear. “I guess . . . We kind of have to go way back.” She turned her gaze to the hunter’s, who couldn’t decide if her expression was worried or exasperated. “Do you know where vampirism came from?”

Vigdis thought for a moment. “Probably one of the daedra.”

“Exactly! The first vampire came from Molag Bal.” Serana looked uncomfortable and sad for a moment. “She . . . was not a willing subject. But she was still the first. Molag Bal is a powerful daedric lord, and his will is made reality. For those willing to subjugate themselves, he will still bestow the gift, but they must be powerful in their own right before earning his trust.”

“So . . .” Vigdis paused. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, as it was rather easy to guess from Serana’s tone alone, but decided to ask anyway. “How did you _become_ a vampire?”

Another wince, and the vampire’s expression was now pained. “The ceremony was . . . degrading. Let’s not revisit that.” She paused and appeared to compose herself. “But we all took part in it. Not a really wholesome family activity, but I guess it’s something you do when you give yourselves to a daedric lord.”

“Do you regret it?” Vigdis asked with a deep frown. “Becoming a vampire, I mean.”

“Nobody’s ever asked me that before.” She curled up into her body and her arms enveloped her legs, as if to shield herself from the world. Her cheek rested on her knee and her eyes became misty in thought. “I . . . I don’t know. I think . . . mostly I hate what it’s done to my family.”

“How so?”

Serana chuckled dryly and moved her head so that her chin now rested on her knees. “Well, you’ve met most of us. My father’s not exactly the most stable, and eventually he drove my mother crazy with him. And it all ended with me being locked underground for who knows how long. It’s definitely been a _bad thing_ , on the whole.”

 _Gods, why did it hurt?_ Vigdis could sense the torment that emanated from the vampire, and it made her chest tighten painfully. Serana had hardly crossed her mind after they parted ways, but now that they were travelling together again . . . Everything felt so strange and new.

Vigdis huffed aggressively and stood up, then crossed the room over to Serana. The vampire’s eyes were wide and cautious, but that didn’t deter Vigdis. She knelt next to the chair and clasped one of Serana’s hands between her own. She noted how cool the other’s hand felt and was rather surprised by this observation, for she expected it to be ice cold.

“I’m not good with words since it’s not in my job description,” the vampire hunter muttered, keeping her eyes trained on their hands, “but I think you’ll be all right. Yeah, bad shit happened to you. But it shaped you.” She paused to study a newer scar on her freckled hand. “Every challenge we face changes something in us—and we’re not always aware that it even is a challenge. Most of the time, we just take it as it comes, and don’t realise until later that it was . . . more significant than we thought.” She closed her eyes. Exhaustion began to slowly seep into her body, but she welcomed it. “We’re all fucked up in different ways, for better or worse. And that can always change.”

Serana didn’t respond. Vigdis, now too tired to move, tilted her head and rested it on the vampire’s hip before succumbing to her fatigue.

The hunter woke with a start.

“Hey,” a soft voice murmured worriedly, “are you all right?”

Vigdis looked up to see Serana, who stared at her with concern. She nodded quickly. “’M fine. Just a dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head and pressed her hand to her face. “No. I just . . . I need a moment to wake up.”

The vampire didn’t press her, much to Vigdis’ relief. Her dream . . . She hadn’t had it in a while—she had hoped that it was gone for good. She felt strange; there was a thrum under her skin and her heart pounded like a thousand drums. The dreams had always had this effect over her, but never this strong . . .

“We need to get going,” Serana said suddenly. Vigdis looked up and noticed that the vampire was leaning against the door, some of their supplies already strapped to her back. “We still have a long way to go before we get to Winterhold.”

The hunter nodded and stood up. She rubbed her face with her hands before she took a deep breath and scooped up the other backpack.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Serana exited the room silently and swiftly, but Vigdis didn’t follow her. The thrumming was fading, but the dream was still crystal clear in her mind.

She had dreamed of a dragon; it loomed over her, as black as the night sky, with eyes that glowed blood red. It spoke to her in a language that was both foreign and familiar to her—she couldn’t understand the words, but she could feel that they stirred her soul.

 _“Zu’u lost daal,”_ the creature snarled, its voice deep and menacing. _“Di kiirre fen alok. Daar Lein los dii_. _”_

It lifted its head and shouted to the heavens, its voice booming and thunderous. The ground shook as storm clouds began to swirl in the sky. The dragon’s gaze seemed to pierce into her very soul.

Vigdis squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. When she opened them, Serana stood in front of her. The vampire looked anxious and uneasy, which made Vigdis feel bad for worrying her. She shoved the dream to the back of her mind and grinned.

“Sorry,” the vampire hunter told her as she shouldered her backpack. “I tend to zone out more when I’m hungry.”

Vigdis relaxed when Serana’s worrisome expression melded into one of annoyance. “You already missed breakfast, so you’ll have to find something along the way.”

“Fuck. Guess it’s a good thing I’m skilled with a bow.”


	7. Old Friends

**-[ <>]-Serana's Point of View-[<>]-**

_“Vigdis?”_

Vigdis turned towards the voice and lowered her nocked bow as her eyes widened in disbelief. “Shatha?”

Serana’s magic surged to her hand, ready to use her paralysis spell if needed. Her eyes narrowed as an Argonian with rosy scales emerged from the darkness of the trees, adorned in black and red leather armour. The fact that they recognized each other made Serana uneasy. Considering that neither of them had tried to attack each other yet, she could only hope that their relationship was a good one—but not _too_ good. She wasn’t sure how she would react if the Argonian was a former lover of Vigdis’; she shook her head slightly to throw the thought out of her mind.

“Huh. It really _is_ you,” Shatha said as she grinned and tilted her head. “Thought you got killed after you left Hjaleif and them all those years ago.”

“What can I say?” Vigdis joked, a faint smirk on her lips. “Disappearing was always my specialty.”

“I still found you, as difficult as it was.” Serana could sense that their friendly banter was just that, and the atmosphere between them seemed to shift. “And finding you is not a good thing.”

“What?” The hunter furrowed her eyebrows. “Why?”

“Well,” Shatha sighed, “I’m supposed to kill you. We received a contract with your name on it—and a hefty sum of gold, too .”

Vigdis’ eyes sharpened. Serana was ready to send an ice shard through Shatha’s skull, and it was she who spoke. “Who’s _we_?”

The Argonian turned her attention to the vampire for the first time and clicked her tongue. “The Dark Brotherhood, of course. What other guild executes assassination contracts?”

Serana gritted her teeth and was about to follow through with her intentions—until Vigdis grabbed her wrist and squeezed it. A silent request that immediately subsided her, for the moment.

“If you’re supposed to kill me, you would’ve done it already,” Vigdis said coolly. “So either you’re bluffing or you have something else in mind.”

Shatha laughed mirthlessly. “You were always smarter than I thought. You’re right—I do have something else in mind.” She paused, but it felt more for dramatic effect than actual thinking. “You might not remember this, but you saved my life once. I never fully repaid you for that.”

“I told you, you don’t—”

“In other words,” the Argonian continued, cutting Vigdis off, “I’m sparing your life. But that makes us even now.”

The hunter stared at Shatha; her expression was unreadable. Then, she shifted her posture and spoke. “The Dark Brotherhood won’t kill you for this?”

Shatha shrugged with a smile. “I have my ways.” She pulled her hood over her face and stepped back into the shadows. In that instant, she vanished. “Pray that the Night Mother never threads our paths. Farewell.”

Several moments passed, and after she scanned the forest with her eyes to make sure the Argonian was truly gone, Serana turned to Vigdis as the magic in her hand dissipated. Her mind was scrambled with confusion and her blood boiled with anger at her lack of answers.

“Who was that?” the vampire demanded. “And what the hell did she mean _Hjaleif and them?_ Is there some kind of story I’m missing here?”

The hunter’s icy eyes flickered with surprise. There was a hint of guilt and shame on her face, which made Serana feel a little bad for being so aggressive—but she still wanted something, anything, to be explained.

“I was . . .” Vigdis seemed to struggle with finding the right words—or with the truth of them. She forcefully sighed. “I was part of a bandit clan several years ago. I was forced to join when I was young, so I was with them for a long time. The man that led us was a burly Nord named Hjaleif.” She chuckled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Biggest asshole I ever knew, but at least I had Shatha. She joined our group later, but we liked each other well enough to get along.”

Serana frowned. “You said you were forced into becoming a bandit.” Vigdis winced, as if the memory was painful. Serana worried that, perhaps, she had suffered trauma similar to her vampire transformation. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to—”

“No,” the hunter interrupted, “it’s just . . . They captured me a couple years after my father was killed.”

“Your father?”

“Yeah.” She inhaled sharply, as if to prepare herself. “One night, during a blizzard, my father came home from hunting with a dying man. He did everything he could to save him, but he died that night—or so we thought. When I woke up at dawn . . .” Serana almost didn’t notice Vigdis’ shudder. “I’ll spare you the details, but the dying man had become a vampire and slaughtered my father out of bloodlust. I tried to kill him, but I . . . I couldn’t. I was too weak, and he got away. I tried to find him on my own, but then the bandits caught me, and—well. You know most of the rest.”

The vampire allowed the story to sink into her soul, to really process the story. She quietly came to the realization that she hardly knew anything about Vigdis. The woman had always been a quiet listener, unwilling to indulge in her own past save for some stories about her life at Fort Dawnguard. Perhaps Vigdis would let her slip into her life now, just a little bit.


	8. Trust Me

**-[ <>]-Serana's Point of View-[<>]-**

Her mother’s laboratory was much more impressive than she could have ever believed—she never even knew it _existed_ to begin with. She had already been surprised by the secret door that had been hidden by the moon dial in the courtyard—but this was a whole new level. From what she could tell, she deduced that her mother had attempted to advance her necromancy. To what end, her and Vigdis were trying to figure out. They already found her mother’s journal, which contained her meticulous notes about the Soul Cairn and her intentions to open a portal to it. After they scanned over the ingredients, Vigdis suggested that Serana’s blood could be used as a replacement for her mother’s. Serana could only hope that their attempt to open a portal would lead to a gruesome end.

“Got ‘em,” Vigdis informed her as she approached the vampire, her hands full of the strange ingredients. “Now what do I do?”

“Put them the vessel,” Serana told her, pointing to the silver bowl on the pedestal. After Vigdis placed the ingredients in the bowl, the vampire exhaled nervously. “The rest is up to me.” She glanced at Vigdis, who looked cool and collected, as always. “I’m not entirely sure what this thing is going to do when I add my blood . . .”

The hunter’s head dipped slightly. “Can I ask you something first?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“When we find your mother . . .” Her freckled hands at her sides curled into fists and she bit her lip. Serana noticed that she did it a lot when she was uncertain. “What are you going to do?”

A frown carved into the vampire’s lips. She answered softly, honestly. “I’ve . . . been asking myself the same thing since we came back to the castle. She was so sure of what we did to my father, I couldn’t help but go along with her.” Serana folded her arms over her chest. She wondered how differently things would’ve been if she hadn’t been caught in the middle of it all. “I never thought of the cost.”

Vigdis was silent for a long moment. Serana wanted to ask her what she was thinking but decided against it. The red-haired Nord had been through more than she was willing to tell, and the vampire knew better than to question her about it.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Vigdis muttered, taking Serana by surprise. She cleared her throat, her face redder than before. “Let’s get that portal open.”

Serana nodded and approached the vessel. She lifted her wrist to her lips and bit down until the taste of iron flooded her mouth. She anxiously hovered her now bleeding wrist over the bowl and watched it drip onto the ingredients. She stepped back when the laboratory began to tremble and feared the worst. But then she watched in awe as the circle on the floor below broke apart and created uneven stairs down into a swirling violet portal.

“By the blood of my ancestors,” she breathed. “She actually did it . . . created a portal to the Soul Cairn. Incredible!”

The vampire placed her hands on her hips and turned to Vigdis, who was expressionless, save for the impressed glint in her eyes. “I’m ready when you are.”

Vigdis nodded, then slowly descended the stairs. Serana held her breath as she reached the bottom, and then—

She screamed. The vampire hunter rushed back up the stairs, her face twisted in pain as she clutched her body. Violet essences swirled around her and seemed to pull at her, but they quickly returned into the portal once she distanced herself enough from it.

“Are you all right?” Serana asked, her voice thick with worry.

“What the fuck happened?” Vigdis snapped. “Why won’t it let me through?”

The vampire bit her lip and have herself a mental slap. She should of thought of that little hiccup sooner. “Now that I think about it, I should’ve expected that. Sorry.” She paused to think of a way to explain it easily. “It’s hard to describe. The Soul Cairn is . . . well, _hungry_ , for lack of a better word. It’s trying to take your life essence as payment.”

Vigdis dropped her arms. Serana had never seen her look so defeated and frustrated before. “So there’s no way in.”

“There might be,” Serana interjected quickly, “but I don’t think you’re going to like it. Vampires aren’t counted among the living. I could probably go through there without a problem.”

“I have to become a vampire?” Vigdis asked in bewilderment.

“Not your first choice, I’d guess.”

The hunter raked her hand through her dark, long fiery red hair. “Is there another way?”

“Maybe.” Serana remembered the soul gem she had picked up earlier and slipped into her pocket. “We could just _pay the toll_ another way. It wants a soul, so we give it a soul: yours.”

Vigdis shot her a look. “I thought the purpose of soul-trapping someone was to _kill_ them.”

“My mother taught me a trick or two,” the vampire assured her. “I could partially soul trap you, and offer that gem to the Ideal Masters. It might be enough to satisfy them. It would make you a bit weaker when we travel through the Soul Cairn, but we might be able to fix that once we’re inside. Maybe.”

She sighed, her expression torn and annoyed. “I assume those are the only two options I have.”

Serana frowned. “I’m sorry. I wish I knew a better way . . . Something that would be easier for you. Just know that . . . whatever path you choose, I won’t think any less of you. Sometimes things just have to be done—I know that better than anybody.”

The vampire hunter’s gaze seemed to shift, but Serana couldn’t place how—perhaps her words had given her something to think about. Vigdis looked away and seemed to think long and hard. She straightened, and Serana assumed that she had come to a decision.

“All right. Soul trap me.”

“Are you sure?” Serana asked. “I’m willing to do it, but you need to think it through. You’ll remain mortal, but you’ll be weakened while in the Soul Cairn.”

Vigdis nodded. Any uncertainty she had before seemed to vanish. “I’m sure.”

The vampire prepared the spell in her hand as magic surged to her fingertips. “I hope you trust me, Vigdis. I . . . I would never do anything that could hurt you.”

Her ice-blue eyes met hers and glittered softly. The old oak door was cracked slightly; she couldn’t push it open and step inside, but she could see that a warm glow emanated from within.

“I trust you,” Vigdis murmured softly. Those words alone roused something within Serana, but she couldn’t tell what it was—not yet.

“I promise to try and make this as painless as possible,” Serana told her. “Hold still.”

The spell was released from her hand and Vigdis flinched when it landed on her arm. The vampire watched as a part of the hunter’s essence arced from that spot and siphoned into her pocket where the soul gem still lay. She fished the gem out of her pocket afterwards and handed it to Vigdis. She noticed that Vigdis already looked rather drained and hoped they didn’t just make a huge mistake.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Vigdis grumbled, taking the soul gem. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

The ginger turned and descended the stairs once again, more hesitant this time. When the portal began to pull at her, she held up the soul gem—which slowly melted away in her hand. Once it disappeared, the portal stopped pulling at her. It seemed that the Ideal Masters had accepted the offer, and before Serana could express her relief, Vigdis disappeared through the portal. The vampire leaned her head back and sighed deeply, for she could only wonder how things would unfold inside.

Then she followed the hunter through the vivid violet waters.


	9. Beyond Death

**-[ <>]-** **Vigdis' Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

The Soul Cairn was . . . more dead than Vigdis had expected.

As she descended the uneven stone steps with Serana close behind her, she couldn’t help but gawk at her new and unfamiliar surroundings. There was a black abyss in the center of the sky, its edges tinged with blues and violets. Indigo storm clouds swallowed everything else, with flashes of lightning that lit up the otherwise dark and desolate Plane of Oblivion. When they finally reached the bottom of the stairs, Serana spoke.

“I’d heard stories about the Soul Cairn, but never thought I’d see it myself.” Vigdis turned to see the vampire grimace. “So far it’s . . . about what I imagined.”

The hunter snorted. “Nordic tombs are livelier than this place.”

“Nordic tombs usually have Draugr, Vigdis.”

“Yeah, well the dead aren’t _supposed_ to get up and move. I thought this place would be full of souls, but it’s practically empty. I’m sure you feel right at home, though.”

Serana shook her head. “You’re wrong. I mean, look at this place. Do you think anything would want to live here? My mother must’ve been terrified.” She sighed quietly and folded her arms over her chest. “Let’s just find my mother, get back your soul gem, and get out here.”

Vigdis couldn’t agree more.

They started their trek across the foreign landscape. The vampire hunter had spotted the huge fortress in the distance, and silently decided that that was their destination—and a good place to look for Serana’s mother, Valerica. Along the way, they fought black skeletons with that possessed violet orbs in their eye sockets that glowed menacingly. They attacked them without mercy, and it was only fair that Vigdis and Serana return with the same fire.

Eventually they reached the foreboding fortress. Upon closer inspection, Vigdis realized that there was a magical barrier that surrounded it, which made it seem more likely that Valerica was there. Slowly, they ascended the charcoal stone steps. It was Serana who reached the top first.

“Mother . . . ?”

Vigdis squinted. Beyond the pink barrier, she could faintly detect movement towards the door of the fort. Human-like movement. She figured Serana’s eyes were better than hers, even in this place.

“Mother!” Serana exclaimed as the figure began to approach them.

“Maker,” the stranger—a woman—murmured in disbelief. “It can’t be . . . Serana?”

The woman was now just on the other side of the barrier. Her eyes emitted the persimmon glow, the tell-tale sign of a vampire. She certainly shared many of her daughter’s features: square jaw line, sharp chin, small nose, pressed mouth. Her dark hair was tied into two buns on either side of her head, and she adorned the red and lavender version of the signature Volkihar armour.

“Is it really you?” Serana asked. Vigdis couldn’t think of a previous time where she had sounded so ecstatic—personally, she felt wary. “I can’t believe it!”

“What are you doing here?” Valerica’s expression hardened and the hunter tensed as Serana’s face fell. “Where’s your father?”

“He doesn’t know we’re here. I don’t have time to—”

“I must have failed. Harkon’s found a way to decipher the prophecy, hasn’t he?”

Her mother started to wring her hands anxiously whilst Serana shook her head. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. We’re here to complete the prophecy our way, not his.”

Valerica, who must have noticed the word _our_ , suddenly darted her eyes to Vigdis’ form for the first time.

“You’ve brought a stranger here?” she almost shrieked when she returned her scorching gaze to her daughter. _“Have you lost your mind?”_

“No, you—”

Valerica turned to Vigdis, her eyes still ablaze with anger. “You. Come forward. I would speak with you.”

The hunter glanced at Serana’s unreadable face before she stepped closer to the barrier. She watched as the older vampire closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. When her persimmon eyes snapped back open, she seemed much more composed—and that somewhat intimidated Vigdis. Even if she hadn’t been a vampire, the fact that she was able to calm herself in such a short amount of time made the hunter distrust her.

“So how has it come to pass that a vampire hunter is in the company of my daughter?” she inquired, her voice low and threatening. “It pains me to think you’d travel with Serana under the guise of her protector in an effort to hunt me down.”

“Are you that self-centered?” Vigdis snarled. She liked how Valerica’s eyes widened slightly at her retort—it gave her confidence. “She wouldn’t be standing here if that were the case. I’ve been keeping her safe.”

“Safe? You call bringing her here _safe_? Has she explained nothing to you?” She crossed her arms over her chest, as her daughter would during an argument or when she was upset. “Serana has sacrificed everything to prevent Harkon from completing the prophecy. I would have expected her to explain that to you.”

The hunter narrowed her eyes. “She’s safer here than she was in that stone coffin you stuffed her in with the Scroll. She’s explained more than enough to me.”

“You think I’d have the audacity to place my own daughter in that tomb for the protection of her Elder Scroll alone? The scrolls are merely a means to an end. The key to the Tyranny of the Sun is Serana herself.” Vigdis clenched her jaw, but Valerica continued. “When I fled Castle Volkihar, I fled with _two_ Elder Scrolls. The Scroll I presume you found with Serana speaks of Auriel and his arcane weapon, Auriel’s Bow. The second scroll declares that _The Blood of Coldharbour’s Daughter will blind the eye of the Dragon_.”

“What does that have to do with Serana?” Vigdis quipped. She wanted to question how Valerica would know the contents of the Scrolls, but the bigger picture was more important. “Is she Coldharbour's Daughter?”

The elder vampire nodded. “Like myself, Serana was a human once. We were devout followers of Lord Molag Bal. Tradition dictates the females be offered to Molag Bal on his summoning day. Few survive the ordeal. Those that do emerge as a pure-blooded vampire. We call such confluences _the Daughters of Coldharbour_.”

“The prophecy requires Serana’s blood to complete, then.”

“Now you’re beginning to see why I wanted to protect Serana,” Valerica hissed, “and why I’ve kept the other Elder Scroll as far from her as possible.”

“You mean Harkon will try to kill her?” At this revelation, the hunter curled her hands into fists and bared her teeth. “I won’t let that happen.”

Serana’s mother scoffed mockingly. “And how do you plan to stop him?”

“I’ll kill him,” she answered simply.

“If you believe that, then you’re a bigger fool than I originally suspected. Don’t you think I weighed that option before I enacted my plans?”

“Clearly, you had other _plans_ in mind.” She glanced at Serana, who hadn’t spoken a word since the beginning of their conversation. In fact, her head was bowed, and her dark chocolate hair hid her pale face. “What does Serana think?”

“You care nothing for Serana or our plight,” Valerica spat. “You’re here because we’re abominations in your mind. Evil creatures that need to be destroyed. You’re a vampire hunter at heart.”

“Serana believes me,” Vigdis said quietly. She saw Serana lift her head out of the corner of her eye. “Why won’t you?”

Serana’s mother now turned her attention back to her daughter, her glowing eyes filled to the brim with rage and disbelief.

“This stranger aligns herself with those that would hunt you down and slay you like an animal—yet I should entrust you _to her?_ ”

Serana dropped her arms, her hand now on her hip as her expression hardened; Vigdis could tell that her mother’s words had hurt her, but she was trying to hide it. “This _stranger_ has done more for me in the brief time that I’ve known her than you’ve done for centuries!”

“How dare you!” Valerica shrieked. “I gave up _everything_ I cared about to protect you from that fanatic you call a _father_!”

“Yes,” Serana said somberly, her face now twisted with pain and sadness, “he’s a fanatic. He’s . . . changed. But he’s still _my father_. Why can’t you understand how that makes me feel?”

“Oh, Serana, if you’d only _open your eyes_. The moment your father discovers your role in the prophecy—that he needs your blood—you’d be in terrible danger.”

“So to protect me you decided to shut me away from everything I cared about?” Serana’s voice sounded as if she were on the brink of tears, although the hunter wasn’t sure if vampires were still capable of crying. “You never asked me if hiding me in that tomb was the best course of action, you just expected me to follow you blindly. Both of you were obsessed with your own paths. Your motivations might have been different, but in the end . . . I’m still just a pawn to you, too.” She shook her head and crossed her arms. “I want us to be a family again. But I don’t know if we can ever have that. Maybe we don’t deserve that kind of happiness. Maybe it isn’t for us.” She let out a long, lengthy exhale, and composure settled over her form. “But we have to stop him. Before he goes too far. And to do that, we need the Elder Scroll.”

There was silence. It was almost deafening for Vigdis, for the sounds of the Soul Cairn weren’t exactly pleasant. Eventually, Valerica spoke.

“I’m sorry, Serana. I didn’t know . . . I didn’t see. I’ve allowed my hatred of your father to estrange us for too long. Forgive me.” She breathed in quietly, as if she had come to terms with something inside herself. “If you want the Elder Scroll, it’s yours—although your friend’s intentions are still unclear to me.”

“You can worry about that later,” Vigdis told her as a devious and untrusting grin spread across her lips.

Serana sighed and shook her head. “How do we get inside?”

“It’s fortunate that you’re in a position to breach it in the first place,” Valerica said. “You need to locate the tallest of the rocky spires that surround these ruins. At their bases, the barrier’s energy is being drawn from unfortunate souls that have been exiled here. Destroy the Keepers that are tending them, and it should bring the barrier down.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

Valerica gave Vigdis a look that seemed mixed with doubt and irritability.

“We’ll return soon, mother,” Serana told her before the pair descended the ruined stone steps. After Vigdis was pretty sure that they were out of earshot of her mother, she decided to check up on her.

“Hey,” she began softly, bumping into the vampire’s shoulder with her own. “Are you all right?”

The vampire’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m . . . relieved, I think. All those things had been building for a while. You have no idea how long I wanted to say that to her.”

“A long time, I’m sure.” The hunter paused uncertainly. “Why did you agree to her plan to begin with?”

“Look—I loved my father, don’t get me wrong, but when he found that prophecy . . .” Her eyes lowered and she stared at the monotonous ground that they stood on. “That became his life. Everything else, even me and my mother . . . We just became clutter. I was close with my mother, but she just kept feeding me her opinions of him, and eventually I just started believing them.” She wrapped her arms around herself, as if the words she spoke made her cold. “The moment we gave ourselves to Molag Bal, things got really icy between them. They were both drunk with power and pulling in different directions. Then he found that prophecy, and . . . that was it.”

Vigdis nodded empathetically. “You got caught in the middle.”

“I did,” she admitted with a short, dry laugh. “Honestly, it took me up until now to figure out that my mother was really just as bad as he was. He was obsessed with power; she was obsessed with seeing him fail. It was just so . . . _toxic_.” She clutched her body tighter. “Maybe I could have seen this coming. We could all be better off now.”

“Serana,” the hunter spoke softly, “you can’t blame yourself for what happened. It’s all in the past now—neither of us can change it, even if we want to.”

“I know that in my head. But I just can't help feeling bad about . . . The way things are.” The vampire forced out an exhale as she dropped her arms. Then her persimmon eyes met Vigdis’ ice-blue ones, and she smiled appreciatively. “Sorry, I know you’re trying to help. Thanks.”

Vigdis lifted her hand and tucked a stray strand of Serana’s dark hair behind her ear. Then, her fingers barely brushed against her arm and finally caressed the back of her hand before she held it in her own. The vampire’s eyes were wide and still, whilst Vigdis felt like her entire face was on fire.

“I . . . I’m here for you, Serana,” Vigdis finally said. “You don’t have to feel lonely anymore.”

After they stared at each other for a long moment, the brunette finally broke their gaze and shyly retreated her hand from the ginger's.

“Let’s uh . . .” She cleared her throat. “Let’s just keep going.” She turned to observe their surroundings. “She said the tallest spires, right?”

“Yeah. I think there’s one over there,” Vigdis said quickly, pointing to the rocky tower, “whatever direction that is.”

“Kill the Keepers at the base of the spires.” Serana grinned. “I think we can handle it.”


	10. Hungover

**-[ <>]-** **Serana's Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

Serana should’ve never agreed to this.

After rescuing her mother and acquiring the Elder Scroll from her, Serana and Vigdis decided to head back to Fort Dawnguard to try to figure out how they were going to find the third Scroll they needed. On their journey back, however, Vigdis insisted that they stop at The Bannered Mare in Whiterun. The vampire hadn’t expected the hunter to get herself wasted on so much mead—six bottles and counting, to be exact.

The party atmosphere of the inn wasn’t really Serana’s taste, either. Everyone—save for a few, which included Serana—were drinking heavily, and singing, and dancing. It made Serana’s head hurt, and she wished that she could step outside and breathe the chilly night air; the only thing that was stopping her was the intoxicated ginger, who had already gotten herself into a bit of a situation.

“F’r fuck’s _sake_ , will you jus’ _shut the_ _fuck up?”_ Vigdis slurred angrily, turning to the noisy bard that had been flirting with her for quite some time. “’M not even _into_ you, _asshole_. Flirt with someone else.”

Serana huffed through her nose. For some reason, it bothered her that the man was trying to charm Vigdis, though she was glad that the hunter also found him to be very annoying.

“But you have yet to hear my sweet melodies, my lady,” the man told her smoothly with a crooked grin. “Surely you’ll change your mind once my heavenly voice reaches your ears.”

Vigdis stared at him. Then, to Serana’s surprise, she dumped her mead on him.

“Won’t say this again, so you better listen close,” the ginger snarled. “I like women. _Women_. Y’got that? I _kiss_ women, _bed_ women, _dream_ women. Not _men._ ”

The bard, now drenched in alcohol but rather unbothered by it, blinked. Then he chuckled and gestured to both Vigdis and Serana. “So a threesome, then? Your lovely friend is just as beautiful as you, and I—”

Before Serana could retort—for what he had just suggested was so disgusting that she nearly threw up in her mouth—Vigdis threw a punch, and the bard fell to the ground with a loud, painful yelp. Her freckled and red hand immediately reached for her sword, but Serana quickly stood up and grabbed her arm. Vigdis’ head whipped around instantly; her eyes were hazy from the alcohol, yet they burned like loathing blue fire.

“If you’re going to fight, take it outside!” the innkeeper, Hulda, shouted over the excited noises of the crowd, clearly upset. “Can’t afford anymore broken furniture from you ruffians.”

The bard moaned and cried on the ground, unable to get up. Serana still stared deep into Vigdis’ eyes as she wondered what she was going to do next. Finally, Vigdis shook her head and relaxed. She removed her hand from her hilt and fished a coin purse from her pocket, then gingerly placed it on the counter in front of Hulda. After she noticed her stumble and sway, Serana sighed and wrapped Vigdis’ arm around her shoulders. She helped her up the stairs to their room with some difficulty, but she was glad to be away from everyone else. The inn, which had fallen completely silent after Hulda’s insult, had now resumed its harmonic murmuring, and effectively drowned out the bard’s whining.

Serana attempted to untangle herself from the hunter, but instead, Vigdis wrapped her arms tightly around the vampire, and they both fell onto the soft bed together.

There was a reason why Serana and Vigdis had never shared a bed before. Part of it was because Vigdis didn’t trust Serana to resist the urge to feed. The other reason . . . the vampire didn’t actually know what the other reason was. All she knew was that there was one that she had never been told.

“Hey,” Serana grunted as she pushed against the hunter, “let me go.”

Serana’s resistance only made Vigdis hold her tighter, which earned her a huff of exasperation. “Vigdis, I’m serious. You know we can’t—”

“Y’smell nice,” the hunter mumbled, cutting the vampire off. “Kind of . . . Kind of like the way forest smells after it rains. Or maybe how the river smells when ’s snowing. One of two.” Vigdis adjusted, her nose now buried in Serana’s dark hair. “Reminds me of home.”

Serana didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t recall a time when someone held her in their arms like this; she thought to herself that Vigdis smelled nice, too, in her own way. It was a scent she was familiar with, and that familiarity brought comfort. The hunter’s breathing deepened, and her hold loosened. The vampire realized that Vigdis had fallen asleep and tilted her head up to stare at her rosy and freckled face. She carefully moved her arm and brushed a few strands of stray red hair away from Vigdis’ face, her skin blazing hot compared to her frozen fingers.

As Serana thoughtfully stared at her face, she realized that she really did care for the hunter; she never wanted to hurt her, nor to see her get hurt. It wasn’t so hard to watch her fight in the beginning, to not care about what happened to her—but now, somehow, somewhere along the way, Serana _began_ to care. She wondered when she started, and thought, and remembered: the moment between them before they bravely delved into the Soul Cairn. She had begun to care about Vigdis before that, of course, but it was in that one conversation that something in the vampire had changed. Serana had revealed a vulnerable side of herself and told Vigdis that she would never intentionally hurt her. _I trust you_ , Vigdis had replied, with a soft gaze and gentle voice that made Serana believe her. She still couldn’t place exactly what she felt after the hunter’s words, and that somewhat irritated her. For a moment, Serana pondered if perhaps her feelings went beyond caring—but she shook her head and quickly shoved those thoughts to the back of her mind.

The pair of them had bigger things to worry about, after all, and she wasn’t looking forward to Vigdis’ hangover.


	11. Laas

**-[ <>]-Vigdis' Point of View-[<>]-**

“Are you sure we’re not lost?” Serana asked with exasperation.

Vigdis rolled her eyes and shook her head. The pair had been trekking through the wilderness for several days now, and they still had some progress before they reached Fort Dawnguard.

“Don’t you trust me by now? I know where I’m going.”

Serana crossed her arms over her chest. “Where are we, then?”

“In . . .” Vigdis glanced at her surroundings. “The mountains. Near Shor’s Stone, which is in The Rift.”

“Obviously,” Serana retorted, “but which mountains? And where’s that in comparison to Riften? Last time I checked their territory is pretty spread out.”

“This is the only range of mountains near Shor’s Stone, Serana. That means we’re north-ish of Riften. Trust me—we’re not lost.”

The vampire shook her head but didn’t say anything else. The hunter shouldered her bow and pressed forward, and hopefully assumed that Serana still followed behind her. The snow was fresh and powdered under their feet, which made it difficult to traverse. Luckily, there were several trees along their path that had strong branches they could grip onto for support.

Eventually, the slope became flatter and easier to climb, until they reached an odd clearing. Vigdis eagerly stepped over the threshold, then turned back briefly to help Serana up. As they took a moment to catch their breath, Vigdis looked around, and she noticed that the environment was out of the ordinary and eerie; there were a few abandoned houses that were covered in an unusual amount of ice and an ancient stone wall that towered above them. There were also large bones scattered about, and a stone pillar with a bird’s head on top that seemed out of place. She glanced at Serana, who wore the nervous expression she felt.

Vigdis began to move forward to investigate, her curiosity getting the better of her—but she stopped in her tracks as a terrifying, yet familiar roar reached her ears.

“What was that?” Serana asked. The hunter heard her shifting and knew that she was trying to look at her face. “What’s wrong?”

Vigdis knew she was visibly shaking. She couldn’t tense her body enough to hide her trembling; she could feel it from her fingers to her knees. Her heart battered against her chest like a wild, frenzied goat that couldn’t escape its cage, and couldn’t seem to remember how to breathe normally. Ignoring Serana’s worried look, Vigdis very slowly reached for her bow and searched the skies anxiously. A shadow flew over them, and her eyes widened in fear as she made out the shape in the sky that she had only seem in her dreams— _a dragon_.

Paralyzed on the spot, the hunter couldn’t even move to hide herself before it turned, its eyes finding them easily. It unleashed a great, thunderous roar as it came to a stop and hovered menacingly above them.

“ _Fo, krah diin!_ ” the creature boomed as ice and frost flooded from its jaws towards them. Serana dove for Vigdis and they dodged its attack.

“Snap out of it, Vigdis!” Serana hissed as the dragon flew off. She stood up and forced Vigdis up with her. The vampire then promptly released her and lifted her hands to show that spells already swirled in her palms. “I’m not gonna die like this.”

Serana’s words somewhat cleared Vigdis’ fear-clouded mind and she shook her head. She snatched her bow from the snowy ground and nocked an arrow. The feathers brushed against her cheek as she aimed high in the sky, and she didn’t have to wait long. The dragon had circled back, and once it was within reach, Vigdis let her arrow fly. Admittedly, she had hunted for birds a handful times, but she had enough experience to know what to do—and it was helpful that her target was much larger.

The arrow struck under its wing and the dragon bellowed in pain. The wyrm circled around the clearing once more and niftily dodged Serana’s spells before it landed in front of the stone wall. Vigdis drew her sword as it roared again, and the same strange language and frost from before spewed from its mouth—but she was ready for it. After she sidestepped to the right, she ran at its wing and slashed it. Vigdis could hear Serana’s spells hit the creature as she swung at its wing again, but was caught off guard when it quickly turned and swiped at her legs with its tail. She fell over, then managed to roll away as it slammed down the end of its tail against the ground where she had been. She saw an opportunity and she seized it—she grabbed on to its tail and climbed onto its back with difficulty. She avoided the spikes that protruded from its spine, then when she reached its neck, she plunged her sword deep into its shoulder. The dragon cried in pain, then shook its body violently and threw Vigdis off. She crashed into the snowy ground and grunted loudly in pain. She scrambled for her bow as the wyrm began to open its jaws and speak, but it was interrupted as an ice shard pierced the side of its face. It turned to Serana, distracted, and Vigdis finally shot an arrow into its neck, then another into its jaw.

The dragon collapsed to the ground, bleeding and defeated. It raised its head, and Vigdis fearfully stared into its bright eyes.

 _“Hi mul, Dovahkiin_ . . . _Nuz Alduin alok. Hi fen mah_. _”_

It closed its eyes one final time and lowered its head, its body becoming relaxed and limp as the last of its life escaped its black and white shell. Vigdis couldn’t force herself to relax; she couldn’t believe the battle was over. She saw Serana approach in her peripheral vision and turned to see the vampire breathing just as hard as she was. Neither of them spoke as they stared into each other’s eyes, and Serana offered her hand.

Just as Vigdis grabbed for her hand and helped herself up, a deep, drum-like sound filled her ears. She turned back to the wyrm to see its flesh burning away and revealing the bones underneath. Before she could think, essences of blue and orange swirled from the creature towards her and struck her chest, and she fell to the ground in shock. The essence seemed to be filling her soul, but she didn’t understand what was happening.

After what felt like an eternity, the dragon bones collapsed upon the ground, for nothing remained to hold them together. Vigdis could hear Serana, but her words were muffled, and she couldn’t make out what she was saying. Without thinking, the hunter closed her eyes and opened her mouth.

 _“Laas_ ,” she whispered. _Life._

She felt the air shift, and when she opened her eyes, she could perceive strange red essences in the distance. She glanced at Serana, and when she saw that the vampire had the red essence, too, she realized that this word revealed the souls of life around her.

“Vigdis? Can you hear me?”

The hunter blinked. The red essences slowly faded away. “I . . . yeah, I can hear you.”

Serana frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “What happened? Are you all right?”

“I . . .” Vigdis hesitated, uncertain of how to phrase her feelings without sounding crazy. “I think I can see souls.”

 _“See_ souls?”

“Yeah. The dragon, it somehow . . . gave me the power to see souls.”

“Well . . . that’s a new one.”

“You don’t believe me?”

Serana snorted. “Honestly, I’m not sure what to believe. Dragons disappeared thousands of years ago, but we just killed one. And now you’re saying that you can see souls in a world that’s literally laced with magic.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t believe _you_ , Vigdis. I just don’t know what to make of what just happened, myself.”

The hunter frowned and looked at the dragon bones before them. Almost instantly, an idea and a way to divert the conversation formed simultaneously in her mind.

“I bet we could sell the bones,” Vigdis said matter-of-factly. “Some moron out there would believe us, and they could probably fetch a nice price.”

“Really? After that, all you can think about is money?” Serana paused and rested her hand on her hip. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Vigdis winced, for she truthfully didn’t want to dwell on the fight with the dragon anymore, nor did she want to indulge and try to make sense of her nightmares. The whole ordeal had awakened a deep, slumbering part of her soul, and she wasn’t ready to face it—and it wasn’t like she knew where to start, anyway.

“If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to put this all behind us,” the hunter deadpanned. “We still have a while to go before we reach the fort, remember?”

If Serana wanted to argue, she didn’t, and Vigdis felt somewhat relieved. After picking a few dragon bones to take—Vigdis had insisted on taking the large skull, for she thought it would sell for the most gold—they continued on their journey to Fort Dawnguard, unaware of the surprise that awaited them.

“Ah, you’re back,” Isran greeted in his usual gruff manner. “Did you find the Scroll?”

“One of them,” Vigdis informed him. “It was with Serana’s mother, Valerica. And before you try to go kill her, you won’t be able to—she’s in the Soul Cairn.”

“The Soul Cairn?” he asked, bewildered. “Where’s that?”

“Volkihar Castle. You’d have to use the front door.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “How did you get in?”

“Magic,” Serana answered sarcastically. “It’s a spell that my mother and I created, and I’m not about to share it with you.”

Isran shot Serena a dark, almost murderous look. Vigdis had her hand on the hilt of her sword, ready to defend Serana, but he just sighed and shook his head.

“Right. Well, now that you’re back, there’s a new member of the Dawnguard I want to introduce you to.”

“Another one?” Vigdis inquired with a raised eyebrow. “Addicted to bolstering our ranks, I see.”

“The vampire menace is not a joke, Vigdis. Since I intend to put an end to it as quickly as possible and we’ve faced several attacks on the fort, yes, I am always bolstering our ranks.” He glared at her before he turned his back, obviously not happy about being made fun of. “Follow me.”

Vigdis and Serana shared a look before they quietly trailed behind Isran, who led them past the dining hall and straight to the blacksmith and enchantment stations. There was a dark man dressed in light Dawnguard armour leaned over the alchemy table that was opposite of the Arcane Enchanter table.

“This is Florentius Baenius,” Isran stated, causing the new member to jump in fright. “He’s our apothecary merchant and can train anyone in Restoration.”

“Don’t do that,” Florentius grumbled, his hand over his heart. “It’s very impolite to scare others, you know—especially your allies.”

Isran stared at the Imperial, as if to silently ask if he looked like he gave a damn. When no one said anything, Isran took his leave, and Florentius sighed deeply.

“Apologies, I’m not quite used to being around him again,” Florentius explained with a small smile. “Everything he said is true—I can trade potions, poisons, and ingredients, and teach you how to use Restoration spells if needed.”

“How did you learn Restoration?” Serana asked. She seemed to be genuinely curious.

“Ah! I’m a Priest of Arkay, you see. It is my sworn duty to see Arkay’s wrath delivered to all the undead. It’s usually a good bit of fun, too.”

“And how did a Priest of Arkay end up with the Dawnguard?”

“Well, er, that’s a bit of a long story, and—”

“I’d like to hear it,” Vigdis interjected. She fought the urge to grin when he hesitated but gave into their demands. The hunter was curious too, after all.

“I was assisting in the excavation of Ruunvald, you see, where the many Vigilants of Stendarr had found a Nordic tomb that was dated to be thousands of years old. Turns out that an Altmer woman by the name of Minorne had begun charming the Vigilants, turning them into her faithful servants. She couldn’t charm me, though, so I was captured and held hostage. I prayed to Arkay for help, and Isran showed up and rescued me. I was shocked, of course, but when he said he needed my help and Arkay insisted that I agree, well . . . the rest is history.”

“Arkay talks to you?” Serana inquired. Vigdis barely picked up on the doubt in her voice.

The priest laughed joyfully. “Oh, Arkay’s been watching over me for years, now.” Then he looked at both Serana and Vigdis pointedly. “He says he’s not too sure about _you two_ yet, though. We still have our parts to play before this is over.”

Vigdis nodded, and she could feel the exhaustion finally beginning to set in her body. Seeming to sense this, Serana spoke up.

“It was a pleasure speaking with you, Florentius, but we need to get some rest now.”

“Oh, of course!” he said quickly, beaming. “Do let me know if you need anything. I am Dawnguard’s healer, after all.”

Vigdis forced out a grin and Serana smiled naturally before she gently held the hunter’s hand. They left the stations and passed through the dining hall again on their way to the general sleep area, but Serana stopped just outside of the doorway.

“What is it?” Vigdis asked in a low voice.

The vampire glanced at their surroundings and bit her lip. “Isn’t there somewhere more private we can go? We need to talk.”

The hunter’s stomach dropped to the floor. If the conversation had anything to do with the dragon, she wasn’t ready for it—but she knew that she couldn’t escape it. She figured that she might as well indulge her and face her fears head-on.

“Uh . . . I think I know a place.”

Vigdis took Serana upstairs and used an exit that led to the roof. She scanned the area to make sure it was empty before she led the vampire to the spare bedrolls that had been placed there. The hunter sat down on one and gestured for the other to do the same, then gingerly kicked a Dawnguard helmet away from her. They sat in silence for several long minutes, for Vigdis was being stubbourn and refused to talk first.

“I want to know what you’re hiding from me,” Serana finally said. “I understand that it’s difficult for you to express what you’re feeling, but . . . I want you to try.”

Vigdis swallowed with difficulty, for a lump had formed in her throat. Truthfully, she was hiding a lot from Serana—too much to tell her right now. She had already told the vampire small bits of her past before she joined the Dawnguard, but she didn’t care to delve into any details or other parts of her life. She wasn’t experienced in sharing her feelings and guarded them ferociously; she had created this heartless, emotionless shell to cope with Tamriel and its people. Serana had slowly but surely chipped away at her shell and peered into it, but Vigdis was always careful and stepped away when she got too close. Now she was faced with a direct question, and she had to choose how she would answer: with her cold shell, or with herself. Without lifting her head to meet Serana’s persimmon eyes that burned into her head, Vigdis carefully voiced her thoughts.

“You know that I have nightmares,” the hunter murmured. She saw Serana nod in her peripheral vision. “There’s this one particular nightmare . . . it’s always the same. There’s this dragon that comes and lands in front of me. His body is as black as night, but his eyes are a glowing, blood red. When he speaks, I don’t recognize the language, but it feels familiar to me. Then he shouts at the sky, and the clouds began to storm and swirl . . . and when I wake up, I still hear the words in my ears, and something seems to thrum underneath my skin. I can’t really explain this feeling, but I . . . it _scares_ me.”

Vigdis finally looked up, her eyes meeting the vampire’s. She had a deep frown on her lips and a crease between her eyebrows.

“How long have you had this dream?” Serana asked. Her voice was so low that Vigdis almost didn’t hear her question.

“Years. I think I first started having them shortly after I joined the bandits.”

“And you never told anyone?”

Vigdis shook her head. “No. Never.”

Serana fell silent. Then, slowly, she slid her hand over and carefully rested it over Vigdis’. She didn’t need to say anything, for the hunter knew what the gesture meant. She turned her hand over and entwined their fingers, then gave her pale, cold hand a small, thankful squeeze.


	12. Trap

**-[ <>]-** **Vigdis' Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

_“Shi—!”_

The floor collapsed underneath her weight and Vigdis fell. She heard Serana scream as she plummeted and crashed into cold, unforgiving waters. She instinctively kicked up until her head burst through the surface and she gasped for air. She looked around wildly and realized with dread that she had fallen into a trap, which was unlike her. There were two other corpses next to her, and she could tell that they hadn’t been there for very long since their bodies still floated in the water. In front of the cage’s door was another corpse, and he looked as though he had been there for a few days already.

“You’ve fallen for my trap!” a voice boomed ecstatically. The hunter whipped towards the sound to find a warlock outside of the water-filled cage; she thought she saw his eyes glitter sadistically. “Greed makes a great lure. Odd you didn’t die from the fall, though. Most do.”

“Let me out,” Vigdis growled through gritted teeth.

The warlock stared at her before he burst into a maniacal laugh. _“Let me out?_ You really think you can demand anything from me, girl?”

When Vigdis’ only response was an icy glare, he turned away with a huff and began to search through his belongings on the table and bookshelves. As he muttered to himself, the hunter seized this chance to try to find a way out—preferably without him noticing. She quietly swam over to the door and reached through the bars for the corpse nearby; she figured that he was outside of the cage because he had worked with the warlock before his death, and that possibly meant that he had a key.

Alas, the body wasn’t quite close enough.

“Ah, here it is,” the warlock announced, which caused Vigdis to scramble away from the door. He didn’t seem to notice nor care. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to stay still this will be much easier for me to do. You see, you have to be _dead_ in order for the spell to take hold.”

The hunter’s eyes widened in horror as he cast Oakflesh on himself, and when she saw the flame appear in his hands, she inhaled sharply before she ducked under the water. She could feel the heat on her head and face as the flames shot from his palm. She was quickly running out of air, but she knew she had to hold out for as long as she could.

Suddenly, the heat disappeared, and a muffled howl reached her ears. Without thinking, she surfaced again, but began to cough hysterically since some water had gotten into her lungs. The cage door creaked open, and someone grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the water onto the cold stone floor outside of the cage. She opened her eyes with difficulty and looked up to see the familiar persimmon glow.

“Are you all right?” Serana asked worriedly, pushing wet strands of red hair out of Vigdis’ face. “I tried to get here as fast as I—”

Vigdis hugged her. She breathed in her scent—nightshade and lavender and rain, she noticed—and let the vampire’s presence calm her down. She looked over her shoulder to see the dead warlock on the ground in a pool of blood, Serana’s knife still buried into the side of his neck. She realized that if Serana hadn’t been there to save her, Vigdis would’ve died. After a few more moments, she let the vampire go.

“I . . . Thank you,” the hunter mumbled out with difficulty, her eyes glued to a random spot on the ground next to them. She then cleared her throat and quickly stood up. “We need to go before I freeze to death.”

“Oh, right,” Serana said as she got up. “I forgot your clothes were wet.” She held up her hands and rested them on Vigdis’ neck—who was alarmed at first, but then realized that warmth emitted from them. “This isn’t ideal, but it’ll have to do.”

The hunter nodded and tried her best to ignore the obnoxious pounding in her chest. “Better than nothing, although I’m used to your hands being cold.”

The vampire smiled but didn’t say anything else, and Vigdis found herself leaning into and relishing her touch. She would never admit it out loud—at least not now—but the vampire had become more than a companion to her in recent months. There were nights when she would gaze at Serana and be overcome with desires she thought she would never feel for her. Vigdis knew that it was dangerous for her to recognize her thoughts and behaviours, but she couldn’t seem to stop them; even now she fought against her urge to stare at Serana’s plump lips, to lean in and—

Serana carefully removed her hands. “How’s that?”

“Good,” Vigdis replied automatically. Truthfully, she was still very cold, but it was better than before. “It should hold me over until I change.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Now let’s get out of here.”


	13. Deliquesce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "-[<>]-" symbolizes a flashback!

**-[ <>]-** **Serana's Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand, vampire.”

Serana tensed at the threat, and her vampiric powers surged to her fingers as she readied a spell, just in case. She should’ve known that Isran would immediately assume the worst, but she stayed calm.

“I would never hurt her,” she said coolly.

“Yeah? Then explain how my best hunter caught your disease,” he retorted. His voice was full of hatred; for her, for her kind. She was an asset to them, nothing more—but her protected status amongst the vampire hunters was going to be revoked if she didn’t defend herself. She ceased her magic and crossed her arms over her chest.

“If you’re done pointing fingers, I can tell you exactly what happened.”

Isran’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Well then, you better start explaining. And fast.”

**-[ <>]-**

“This is the spring?”

Serana nodded. “Yes.”

Vigdis stared at the flowing red waters before them, although Serana couldn’t read her expression. They had just finished infiltrating Redwater Den to reach this peculiar spring that her father had mentioned to his devout follower, Yotul. Serana thought it wise to simply sneak out of the castle and enlist Vigdis to come with her and inspect the spring themselves, but this wasn’t what she expected. The smell of blood was overwhelming, even for her.

The hunter crouched down at the edge of the spring and pinched her nose, her face twisted with disgust. “Why would Harkon be interested in this? I thought he was powerful enough already.”

The vampire was silent for a long moment.

“Maybe it’s not for him,” Serana suggested quietly, her eyes widening as it dawned on her. “If the entire clan had this, then—”

“My lord will become unstoppable.”

Vigdis was on her feet in a second, her sword drawn and her stance guarded whilst Serana readied her spells. An Orc emerged from the shadows across the spring, and Serana immediately recognized her as Yotul. Not a good sign.

“I’m disappointed in you, Serana,” Yotul continued with a snarl. “But I’m not surprised. Considering your history, you were bound to follow your traitorous mother. Perhaps my lord will heed my advice once he learns the truth and dispose of you himself.”

“Shut up,” Vigdis spat venomously.

The Orc smirked and unsheathed her mace, which glinted menacingly as she approached them. “Let’s end this.”

Vigdis quickly engaged Yotul, and Serana found it difficult to lend a hand. Their dueling dance was absolute chaos, Vigdis’ sword clashing against Yotul’s mace and shield; Serana wanted to help, but she was afraid that her spell would miss and hit Vigdis. The fight seemed evenly match, so she waited anxiously for a clear shot.

Suddenly, Vigdis was disarmed, and Yotul sent her sprawling to the ground by bashing her mace into the hunter’s shoulder. Serana screamed as Yotul stepped on Vigdis’ head, suffocating her with the blood-filled waters. Lightning arced out of Serana’s left hand and an ice shard shot from the other, both striking Yotul’s body. The Orc stumbled and stepped back, releasing the vampire hunter. Her eyes pierced Serana’s.

“This isn’t over,” she growled. “We’ll meet again, Serana.”

Before Serana could even think to attack again, Yotul stepped back into the shadows and vanished. She hesitated for a moment to make sure the Orc was really gone before she rushed to Vigdis’ side.

“ _Vigdis!_ ” she called frantically as she turned the vampire hunter over. Shit, there was so much blood, and she was coughing and couldn’t seem to breathe. “Vigdis!”

Vigdis sputtered and blood flew everywhere. Her body began to spasm and she continued to cough. Serana’s eyes widened in horror when she recalled that if the ichor of the Bloodspring was ingested by a mortal human, countless diseases would riddle their body—and _Sanguinare Vampiris_ was one of them.

**-[ <>]-**

“So you brought her here,” Isran grumbled, “ while in the form of a Vampire Lord.”

Serana nodded. The memory of bringing Vigdis back to Fort Dawnguard was both a blur and crystal clear; she couldn’t figure out how long it had actually taken for her to finally get there, but she could recall every scenario that had run through her mind as Vigdis’ heartbeat grew weaker overtime, each one more heartbreaking than the last. After she arrived, a couple Dawnguard soldiers took Vigdis inside the fort. Serana hadn’t used her form in so long and was so emotionally drained that it took her several moments to revert to a human. The other soldiers fearfully escorted her into the torture room, and shortly after she was confronted by a very livid and possibly murderous Isran.

“I hope I didn’t scare you,” she said dryly. “I wasn’t going to get here very quickly on foot.”

Isran grunted. “Don’t think that this changes anything, vampire. If she dies, I _will_ kill you, along with the rest of your kind.”

“I’ll hold you to that. But don’t hold your breath.”

Serana paced outside of the room Vigdis was in, where most of the Dawnguard members slept. She hadn’t seen the vampire hunter for several days, and being a vampire meant that she didn’t exactly have the luxury of true sleep to temporarily wash away her worries.

Her head snapped up when the door creaked open. A scruffy man emerged—Gunmar, Serana recalled—and he let out a long sigh before he looked at her. He inclined his head towards the room.

“She’s awake,” he grunted.

Serana nodded and uttered a quiet ‘thank you’ as she slipped into the room. The fireplace in front of her was the only source of light that illuminated the chamber in a soft, orange glow. She looked to her left to see a man—whom she recognized as Florentius— who knelt next to an occupied cot. She silently approached the cot and felt relief at seeing Vigidis’ face; she was still pale, but she was alive. Vigdis, who had been conversing with the Imperial in hushed tones, glanced over and locked eyes with Serana. The vampire watched the healer stand up and leave the room out of the corner of her eye before she took his place next to the redheaded hunter.

“You’re alive,” Serana murmured, taking one of Vidgis’ hands in her own.

“’Course I am,” Vigdis replied, her voice rougher than usual. “It takes more than a disease to kill me.”

Serana’s stare became hard, angry that the vampire hunter was in a joking mood. “Do you even realise that you could’ve died?”

Vigdis blinked owlishly before she propped herself up on her elbows. “Well, yeah.” She sighed quietly. “I’m a vampire hunter, Serana. It’s unsaid, but I acknowledge that I could die by a vampire’s hands. It’s part of what I signed up for.” She paused and glanced at Serana. “You . . . saved my life. You didn’t have to, but . . . I’m grateful that you did.”

Serana was at a loss for words. She searched Vigdis’ ice-blue eyes that seemed to pierce her own, and she expected them to be cold and unforgiving like they always were . . . instead, they were as reflective as soul gems and as clear as a windowpane on a winter morning. Her eyes were flooded with swirling emotions that Serana had never seen in them before; it was as if a door had flown open, and she was allowed to fully step inside for the first time.

After a moment, Vigdis finally blinked and broke her gaze as her pale face took on a pinkish hue. She cleared her throat and ran her slim fingers through an absent strand of fiery auburn hair.

“I, uh . . .” Vigdis awkwardly began. She seemed to be struggling with finding something to say, and Serana decided to not give her the time to find it.

The vampire slowly yet confidently cupped the hunter’s face and turned it back towards her. Her fingers trailed along the other’s cheek and jaw as she cautiously leaned in. Her eyes scanned for any signs of hesitation or rejection, but she found none. Instead, it was Vigdis who snatched her wrist and closed the gap between them. Serana instinctively froze in surprise when their lips met—she hadn't been kissed so long ago that she had forgotten what it felt like—but her surprise melted away almost instantly as she reciprocated.

When Vigdis pulled away, Serana opened her eyes to see Vigdis not focused on her, but instead she scowled over her shoulder. Serana turned to see that Florentius leaned against the wall and beamed at them.

“You didn’t see a _damn thing_ ,” Vigdis growled threateningly.

“Oh, don’t you worry,” the man chuckled as he waved his hand dismissively, “I’m as blind as a Moth Priest. Just, ah, don’t let Isran catch you doing that.”

Without another word, the healer exited the room. The vampire looked back at the hunter, who groaned and rubbed her temples with an annoyed expression.

“Fucking Florentius,” she hissed. “Isran should've never recruited him.”

Serana laughed softly and held Vigdis’ hand. For her, the moment wasn’t ruined, and she wanted to enjoy it a little longer if the other would allow it. “Would you mind if we tried again?”

Vigdis arched an eyebrow, then smirked. “I don’t mind at all.” She lifted their entwined hands and kissed one of Serana’s knuckles. “In fact, we can try to your heart’s content, if that’s what you want.”

And that’s exactly what they did.


	14. In the Deep

**-[ <>]-** **Vigdis' Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

_“Under deep. Below the dark. The hidden keep. Tower Mzark. Alftand. The point of puncture, of first entry, of the tapping. Delve to its limits, and Blackreach lies just beyond. But not all can enter there.”_

Vigdis rolled her eyes every time Septimus’ nonsense echoed in her ears. The old man was definitely crazy, as she had never seen a city beneath any dwarven ruins before—and she had delved into plenty of them. She didn’t believe him . . . initially.

When she had inserted the sphere into the mechanism, she didn’t expect it to work. When the gears turned and the stone dropped to reveal a set of stairs that led down to the iconic golden Dwemer door, she still had her doubts.

And then—with Serana in tow, as always—she pushed it open.

She had to admit to herself that the old man was right, because the evidence that Blackreach existed was right in front of her.

The city under the earth had tall, glowing blue mushrooms that illuminated the massive cavern. While the buildings were sparse, and much of them laid in ruins, it was clear to her that the Dwemer once inhabited this place before their strange disappearance. The more her eyes scoured the city in disbelief, the more she found; a giant ball, emitting a faint orange light in the distance, hung above a large collection of Dwemer structures—and the many Falmer that crawled the area. She couldn’t help but wonder what Blackreach’s original purpose once was.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” the vampire murmured next to her in awe.

Vigdis could only nod in agreement as her eyes fell on the small building just in front of them. Without a word, she crouched down and drew her bow. She released the arrow and silently eliminated the Dwarven Sphere that guarded the door. She stood up and motioned for Serana to follow her, and together they headed towards the seemingly abandoned structure.

The hunter pressed her ear to the door. She heard a faint _clank_ and other discernable sounds. Cautiously, she leaned away from the door, then gently pushed it open with the top of her bow. She had an arrow notched just in case, and heard Serana’s magic surge behind her.

The door was almost fully open now, but the sounds had stopped. Vigdis squinted but she could barely see beyond the light that poured in from the outside. She stepped forward, her stance stuck between crouching and standing. She decided to try something.

“Come out,” she demanded. “Or we’ll be forced to hurt you.”

Soft, quiet, nonsensical ramblings were heard in response. The hunter pinpointed the sounds to be coming from behind the stone bed and stood on her toes to peer over it. She didn’t expect to see bright, frightened eyes to stare back at her.

The creature spoke again in the strange language that Vigdis couldn’t understand, but she slowly moved her bow to the side and slipped the arrow back into her quiver. She turned her head slightly back to Serana and shook her head. The vampire understood and lowered her hands, and the magic dissipated. Vigdis shouldered her bow and raised her hands to show that they were no longer armed. Slowly, the creature crawled out into the view of the light.

Serana audibly gasped behind her.

“That’s a . . .” the vampire failed to finish her sentence, but it wasn’t needed. The thin white skin. Long snow hair. Wide, curious eyes. Slim pointed ears. Small, starving, angular face. There was no doubt of what she was: a Falmer. But she was missing the skin over her eyes, the exaggerated hunched and pointed spine, the deadly claws. She certainly didn’t resemble the Falmer that crawled inside every Dwarven ruin—she looked more closely related to the mer that traversed the sun-drenched world above.

“I don’t think it can understand us,” the hunter murmured, her eyes still narrowed in suspicion as she studied the creature.

“What should we do?” Serana asked. “I . . . I don’t think we should try to deliberately hurt her. She would’ve attacked us by now if she thought we were a threat.”

“She can’t attack us—she’s not armed, and it would take one swing to kill her.”

Vigdis gripped the hilt of her sword when the Falmer—Snow Elf?—stood up. She spoke in her strange language again as her pale eyes darted around the room. The hunter couldn’t stop the pang of guilt that hit her when she saw how thin and starved the girl really was; it was clear that she barely survived down here. She also noticed several scars on her body, especially where her cloth dress was torn. Did the other Falmer attack her? Did the Dwarves? She didn’t know, and she doubted she would ever find out. Whoever she was, she was clearly afraid of them. Vigdis didn’t blame her. She released her hold on her sword and sighed as her fingers ran through her messy red hair.

“I’m going to look around, see if I can find anything useful,” Vigdis told the vampire behind her. “If not, we’ll leave.”

She turned her head just enough to see Serana nod. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

The hunter spared another glance at the Snow Elf—who watched them curiously with her round, pale eyes—before she walked past the arrow-riddled skeleton and approached the old alchemy station. She clenched her teeth as a familiar high-pitched ring reached her ears, and she snatched the odd crimson nirnroot from its dirt perch out of irritation.

Beside it was an old, dusty journal, which she read out of curiosity. The skeletal remains, she assumed, were none other than this Sinderion fellow, who had done some research on the red nirnroot before his untimely death. Vigdis noticed black ink on the other side of his last writings and turned the page over to see a scripture she had never seen before. It looked nothing like the Dwemer writing she had seen on Sorine’s schematics. It occurred to her that the stylistic writing could belong to the Snow Elf, and the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. Was this the written language of the Snow Elves, then? And if so, who was alive today that could translate it?

She closed the journal and pocketed it. When she turned, she nearly screeched in surprise—the Snow Elf had crept up behind her. Vigdis looked up to see Serana, who laid rather comfortably on the stone bed. She glared daggers at the vampire.

“I thought you were keeping an eye on her,” she hissed.

“I am,” Serana retorted with a frown. “It’s not like she’s going to hurt you.”

Vigdis was about to shoot back an argument when the mer tugged on her arm. The hunter almost snapped at her for interrupting the conversation when the girl held up a creased drawing. Her eyes widened at the accurate sketch of an Elder Scroll. That’s why they were here, why they went through so much trouble to get down into Blackreach in the first place—the Elder Scroll that they needed to decipher the last part of the prophecy.

“Where did you get that?” she demanded. The girl cowered at her tone, but Vigdis pressed her. “Where is the Scroll?”

The Snow Elf responded in her native tongue. This frustrated the hunter further, but she took a deep breath to keep her temper under control. She took the drawing from the girl and turned it around so the girl could see it. She pointed at the sketch, then pointed at the ground. She raised her eyebrows and nodded. The mer stared for a long moment before she slowly nodded. Vigdis hoped she meant that she understood what she asked.

Then the Snow Elf did something she didn’t expect.

She turned and exited the building.

It took several moments for Vigdis and Serana to realize that the Snow Elf may lead them to the Elder Scroll, and took off after the mer. It wasn’t long before Vigdis noticed that Blackreach, as beautiful and strange as it was, harbored more hostiles than she originally thought. She and Serana worked hard to dispose of enemies from afar to keep the Snow Elf safe, since the hunter assumed the girl didn’t know how to fight. Whether the girl was grateful for it or not, she didn’t know.

They eventually reached a tall tower-like building on the other side of Blackreach, far away from where they had entered through Alftand. Vigdis and Serana approached the lift inside, and the hunter turned to see that the Snow Elf hadn’t followed them. Instead, the girl smiled—her teeth crooked and jagged—then crept away.

“I suppose she wants to stay here,” Serana murmured sadly. “I wish we could’ve thanked her.”

Vigdis said nothing. She turned her back on Blackreach and activated the lever. She shakily exhaled as the steam whistled and the gears turned, which signaled their ascent into the unknown.

The puzzle to acquire the Elder Scroll was much easier than Vigdis thought it would be. At first, the weird Dwarven mechanism overwhelmed her—until she figured out what she was supposed to do. With a few clicks of the buttons, the enclosed crystal opened and revealed the Elder Scroll hidden inside. With all three Elder Scrolls in their possession, Vigdis and Serana were ready to decipher the prophecy and pinpoint the location of Auriel’s Bow.

Serana voiced her request to not walk all the way back to Fort Dawnguard, and Vigdis suggested that they try to find a carriage to take or some horses to ride at Winterhold. The vampire agreed and they spent the next several days traversing across the frozen landscape. When the College that loomed over the town finally came into view, an idea crossed the hunter’s mind.

“Do you think someone at the College could translate this?” she asked the vampire, holding up the journal she had pocketed from Blackreach. She had explained to her several nights ago that it was originally the journal of the dead alchemist they had found, then pointed out the unknown language that was written on several of the pages after his writings had ended.

Serana shrugged. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try. I’m just as curious as you are.”

The pair easily gained access to the College—thanks to Serana being an expert mage—and immediately headed into the Arcanaeum. The Orc, Urag gro-Shrub, was interested in their find and told them he would have the translation for them in a couple of days. The gold he gave them for it didn’t hurt, and they decided they could use the money to rent a room at the inn. Since they were in possession of the Scrolls, Vigdis hoped that Harkon wouldn’t do something stupid.

As promised, Urag had their translation for them on the morning of the second day. Vigdis left without Serana, as she was still asleep, and met him in the library.

“Here you go,” he grunted as he handed back the journal. “I wrote the translation on the last few pages. I hope that’s satisfactory.”

Vigdis nodded and left the Arcanaeum. She headed back to their room in the inn and found that Serana was still sound asleep, which brought a faint smile to her lips. She sat next to the vampire and brushed some stray strands of her dark hair out of her face before she turned her attention to the journal in her hands.

She flipped to the page where the translation began. The writing was thin, tall, and elegant.

_My name is Helthune. I am a proud Snow Elf. The Nords chased us down here a very long time ago. Why is it so dark? I lost my family._

_My own kind wants to hurt me. The Dwemer blinded them . . ._

Hot tears pricked her eyes as Vigdis realized that the Snow Elf had stumbled across this journal and tried to record what had happened to her. The writings were sporadic and difficult to make sense of by the time she reached the end.

_Murmuring . . . Lost murmurs of the ancients. Locked into stone. Hid and hurt. Lost. Alone._

She shut her eyes in defeat as she closed the journal. She let her emotions swirl and bloom inside of her, let herself feel sad and angry and hopeless. Then, she inhaled through her nose and exhaled out of her mouth.

There was nothing they could do about it now.


	15. Secunda

**-[ <>]-Serana** **'s Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

“We should camp here tonight.”

Serana glanced at their surroundings. They were in the middle of nowhere, encompassed by pines and oaks. She could tell that it had rained some time ago; the soil barely gave in under her boots and she could smell the mud and grass more than usual.

“What is it with you and forests? We could’ve stayed at the inn.”

Vigdis huffed as she tucked some loose red hair behind her ear. She had taken out her braid several hours ago, and skillfully braided a piece of her front strands to keep them out of her face. Serana couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten her fingers tangled in it.

“I wasn’t tired when we were in town,” the hunter finally muttered as she shrugged her shoulders. “I sleep better out here anyway.”

The vampire frowned. She knew that Vigdis had nightmares, but often refused to talk about them and shut her out. She wished she wouldn’t push her away.

They quietly set up the tent together. The ground was only a little damp, otherwise Serana would have begged Vigdis that they head back to the town or continue their path to Fort Dawnguard. Vigdis easily found some dry kindling and started a fire. Serana used their many fur blankets to create a makeshift bed in their tent as she had done many times before.

After Vigdis nearly died from the vampiric disease, the two shared beds whenever they travelled. It was easier, and sometimes cheaper, too. Occasionally they would kiss each other before they fell asleep, but it was never on the lips; it was on the cheeks, nose, forehead. Serana wondered if it was something she had done, for they hadn’t really kissed since the hunter had been cured.

The vampire settled next to the fire, across from Vigdis. She shook her head slightly as her train of thought continued. No, it couldn’t be something she had done. That would have been made clear already. Serana lifted her gaze and saw Vigdis’ icy eyes focused on the flames. It was to protect her, she reasoned. The hunter purposefully kept herself at an arm’s length for their safety, perhaps afraid that if one of them slipped . . .

Serana clenched her teeth, frustrated. They were grown women. They were more than capable of a mature conversation. So why was she so hesitant to know?

“What?”

The vampire’s focus became sharp again. Ice pierced her eyes. Her red eyebrows were lowered and furrowed in question. She realized that her gaze must have looked intense and cleared her throat awkwardly. Now was a good time to ask.

“Why . . .” She lowered her head as she tried to find the right words. “Why do you . . . Push me away?”

She lifted her head when Vigdis sighed. “Serana—”

“I know you think you need to keep me safe,” she interrupted, “to keep _us_ safe. But that’s . . . I can handle myself. I won’t hurt you.”

The hunter winced. She wasn’t looking at Serana anymore and didn’t say anything. The vampire realized she had been shut out again. Frankly, she was sick of it—but she didn’t know how to fix it. How to fix _them_.

“Vigdis,” she pleaded, “don’t do this to me. Don’t push me away. _Trust_ me . . . Let me in.”

Vigdis lifted her head. Serana could see that her eyes brimmed with water.

“I _do_ trust you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She wiped at her eyes. “It’s . . . I don’t trust myself. I don’t know what I should and shouldn’t want. This . . .” She dropped her hand and huffed. Her eyes weren’t watery anymore. “I’ve never been with a woman I genuinely cared for. It’s all new to me, and the very last thing I want to do is _hurt_ you.”

The hunter turned her head away, as if she was embarrassed, but the vampire felt . . . relieved.

Serana silently moved and knelt next to her lover. She cradled Vigdis’ pink and freckled face in her cold hands as her thumbs stroked her cheeks. Her skin was soft, and her bright blue eyes were wide. She heard her quickened heartbeat as it pushed recycled blood through her veins and arteries. Vigdis was alive while Serana breathed death—but they fell for each other anyway. Ironic, the vampire always thought.

“You won’t hurt me,” she murmured as she kissed the hunter’s brow. “I trust you, remember?”

Vigdis swallowed. “I was the one that told you that.”

Serana thought about teasing the poor woman further. Before she could, Vigdis leaned forward and ensnared her lips with her own. The kiss was far more passionate than any previous ones they had shared. She gently reciprocated, unsure of what it was Vigdis wanted—until the hunter bit her bottom lip.

She pulled away out of surprise. Her eyes searched the icy blue waters for any sign of hesitation or discomfort—to her disbelief, she found none. Instead, those waters had transformed into vivid flames of need and desire.

“Would you mind if we moved to the tent?” Vigdis asked quietly. “I’m sure you don’t want to get covered in mud.”

Serana quickly released her hold of the hunter and nodded. She had been so caught up in the way Vigdis had looked at her that she momentarily forgot where they were. In truth, she wouldn’t have minded if they had just continued then and there on the ground under the stars, but she didn’t voice this thought.

Vigdis stood up, then held out her hand. The vampire took it and let her lead them into the tent. Once they made themselves comfortable on the fur bed, it was Vigdis who cupped her cheeks. Her hands were warm against her cold skin.

She leaned in and kissed her slowly, cautiously, as if she would break under her touch. Serana returned the kiss confidently, passionately, and allowed her slim fingers to become entangled in her dark red hair. They let the fire that fluttered between them engulf them entirely.


	16. The Vale

**-[ <>]-Serana** **'s Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

Serana was sick of Darkfall Cave. She was sick of the darkness, of the musty and moldy smell that permeated her nose, of the Falmer infestation throughout. She sighed in relief and annoyance when they finally found the wayshrine Knight-Paladin Gelebor had spoken of, but it was clear that their mission wasn’t done. There were four more shrines for them to find, after all.

They stepped through the portal, and Serana was once again wrapped in a warm and fuzzy sensation, albeit momentarily. She was disappointed to see more cave, although it wasn’t nearly as dark as it had been for forever.

“Will we ever escape this damn place?” she asked, exasperated. “He said we’d find more than just caves, and now I’m pretty sure he meant this cave just _doesn’t_ end.”

Vigdis turned to her with a faint smile, clearly amused by Serana’s impatience. She took one of her hands into her own and entwined their fingers.

“I guess we’ll just have to find out,” she murmured, her smile turning into a smirk. Serana simply huffed as the hunter lifted her hand to kiss her knuckle before they pressed on. The passages slowly became brighter and brighter, until—

The bright sun blinded the vampire, who quickly shielded her eyes from its harmful rays with her arm. Without a word, Vigdis gently guided her forward. She didn’t expect the loud crunch of snow under her boots, or a sudden gust of cold wind through her dark hair.

Her eyes snapped open and she dropped her arm. The sun’s intense warmth on her skin was noticeably uncomfortable, yet she did her best to ignore it. It took several seconds for her vision to adjust, but once it did, she stared in awe.

A snowy valley sprawled before them. It was dotted with sparse pines and an occasional boulder. Just within reach were tall, glorious snow-capped mountains. Serana scanned the magnificent rocks, and easily found a wide, noticeable divide between them in the distance. She could only imagine what was beyond them, although the view was already gorgeous enough. She realized that they stood on the edge of a small cliff, which explained how she could perceive so much of their new surroundings.

“Guess he wasn’t kidding after all,” Vigdis said finally, catching Serana’s attention. The vampire raised a brow as the hunter bit her lip.

“What are you thinking?”

She glanced at her. Despite her teeth clutching her bottom lip, a smirk broke through. Her icy blue eyes glittered with mischief.

“I’m thinking we should’ve waited. It’s a lot prettier than the Rift woods.”

Vigdis’ smooth and coy voice made Serana shiver. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, which earned her a chuckle. She didn’t know what to say to that because she genuinely _liked_ the idea. Now that it had been hinted at, she wouldn’t mind if they spent another long night under the stars, entwined with her lover on the cold earth. She opened her mouth to make an official offer, but the hunter shouldered her bow.

“Come on, we should find that other shrine and go through the pass.”

Serana frowned. “Vigdis . . .”

“Hm?”

The vampire hesitated. Then, she stepped towards her red-haired lover and cupped her cheek. She enjoyed how wide her blue eyes got at their closeness. She leaned forward and kissed the tip of Vigdis’ nose, then grinned.

“Who says we still can’t?” she murmured suggestively.

The hunter blinked several times, her face flushed. She clearly hadn’t expected Serana to respond to her flirty comment, and now seemed to be at a loss for words.

“It doesn’t have to be now, of course. But if we stick around long enough, we could always try it then, if you’re up for it.”

Serana purposely gazed into her lover’s eyes as she spoke, both serious and flirtatious. She wanted Vigdis to know how the exchange had worked her up, but also that if the hunter didn’t want to, she didn’t have to. She smiled softly when Vigdis covered her pale hand with her own freckled one and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll think about it,” the hunter promised with a faint grin. She then removed Serana’s hand from her face but still held onto it. “Until then, let’s see what kind of secrets we can find.”

The vampire nodded, and together they descended into the hidden valley.


	17. Cascade

**-[ <>]-Vigdis'** **Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

“No,” Vyrthur growled as Vigdis and Serana slayed the last wave of frozen Falmer, “I won’t let you ruin centuries of preparations . . . !”

Vigdis struck down a frozen Chaurus with her blade, out of breath and tired of Vyrthur’s games. She turned to Serana as the vampire stabbed the last Falmer in the face with her dagger. Her persimmon eyes met the Arch-Curate’s, her teeth bared.

 _“Surrender and give us the bow!”_ Serana demanded. Vyrthur, his face twisted in rage, became aglow with blinding light.

_“_ **_Death first_ ** _!”_

The ground quaked. The stone ceiling started to crash down on them. Vigdis didn’t even have a chance to think before the floor fell beneath her feet—a sensation she was annoyingly used to now—and she thrust her hands out to grab whatever was left of the cold, once solid floor. She prayed that she wouldn’t lose her grip or get knocked off and fall into the abyss below. She squinted as the sun pierced her eyes. Her breathing was hard and short as she struggled to keep herself up. She couldn’t see Serana, nor did she know where she was—her stomach dropped instantly at the thought of losing her.

A dark shadow concealed her face from the sun’s rays. Her eyes focused on the familiar persimmon glow in front of her and relief washed over her. _Serana was alive_.

“Are you all right?” the vampire asked worriedly as she grabbed for Vigdis’ hands. The hunter could only nod in response. She grunted loudly and used Serana’s weight to help herself up. They sat there for a moment while she caught her breath, then the vampire stood up.

“Come on, we can do this. I know we can.”

“Yeah,” Vigdis breathed out, joining her. “Let’s end this.”

They headed up the steps of the now desolated chantry, where Vyrthur waited for them on the balcony. Vigdis had her bow drawn and aimed at his neck, while Serana crossed her arms over her chest. Vyrthur gripped his arm, which meant he had been injured during the collapse that he had created.

“Enough, Vyrthur,” Serana snarled. “Give us the bow.”

“How _dare_ you,” he spat. “I was the Arch-Curate of Auri-El, girl. I had the ears of a _god!”_

“Until ‘the Betrayed’ corrupted you. Yes, yes, we’ve heard this sad story.”

“Gelebor and his kind are easily manipulated fools.” He dropped his hand and approached the vampire. Vigdis took a step closer as a precaution—since she didn’t trust him nor should she start—, but then noticed a familiar feature on his face. “ _Look into my eyes_ , Serana. You tell me what I am.”

Serana stepped back, her mouth agape in shock. “You’re . . . you’re a vampire?” Her dark eyebrows furrowed. “But Auri-El should’ve protected you . . .”

“The moment I was infected by one of my own initiates, Auri-El turned his back on me!” He set his jaw, a determined expression on his thin, bony face. “I swore I would have my revenge, no matter what the cost.”

“Godly revenge,” Vigdis drawled sarcastically. “Very original. As if the gods would ever step onto Tamriel and bother with us, much less _you_.”

Vyrthur spared a momentary glance to glare at Vigdis, to which she responded with a raised eyebrow. She wasn’t wrong, and she knew it.

“Auri-El himself may have been beyond my reach, but his influence on our world wasn’t,” he sneered. “All I needed was the blood of a vampire and his own weapon, Auriel’s Bow.”

“The blood of a vampire,” Serana murmured, as if it sounded familiar. “Auri-El’s Bow . . .”

The truth dawned on the hunter.

“It was _you_ ,” she stated, her grip on her bow tightening in anger. “You’re the one that made the prophecy!”

Vyrthur nodded, unashamed. “A prophecy that lacked a single, final ingredient.” His eyes, which held the same persimmon color, met Serana’s again. “The blood of a pure vampire—the blood of a _Daughter of Coldharbour_. _”_

For a moment, everything was still. Then, Serana grabbed Vyrthur by the collar of his armour and lifted him into the air. Vigdis had never seen the vampire look so furious. Her teeth were clenched but her fangs were more noticeable than ever. It was clear to the hunter that Serana was ready to rip the Arch-Curate apart from limb to limb.

“You were waiting all this time for someone with _my_ blood to come along,” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “Well, too bad for you; I intend on keeping it.” In one swift, powerful motion, she threw him to the ground as if he were a doll. She stepped back, and both of them prepared spells in their hands. “Let’s see if your blood has any power to it!”

Vigdis released her arrow, but it whizzed just past Vyrthur’s pointed ear. She cursed and dove for the stairs to give herself cover. Luckily for her, him and Serana were caught in a magical duel. She realized that she couldn’t even tell them apart as they fought; they had the same arsenal of spells. She bit her lip, too afraid to lift her head over the railing in case one of their spells pierced her face.

A sudden _vwoom_ reached her ears. She didn’t like how close it sounded, then noticed the shadow that loomed over her. She looked up to see that the Arch-Curate had summoned a Frost Atronach, which already had its blade-like arm raised to strike down on her. She rolled out of the way just in time, and its arm hit the stone stairs with an icy _thud_. Vigdis shot the Atronach, then scowled in dismay as the arrow bounced off. She always had trouble with Atronachs, as their skin was practically impenetrable and reminded her of how useless her archery was against them. It was time to try something else.

She dived between its legs and scrambled away from it. This gave her just enough time to draw her sword before she was slammed with that damn arm. She flew some feet and crashed onto the old elven stone. She groaned as the pain shot up her side but forced herself to stand.

She now properly took in the fact that the Daedra was twice her size, and its arms were almost the entire length of its frozen body. One arm was pointed, like a spear, and the other formed into a rounded club. She guessed that it was the club she had been hit with—and although it had hurt like hell, she was glad it lacked any kind of spikes.

Vigdis dodged when it tried to jab her with its spear arm. It tried again, and she sidestepped with ease. If a faceless creature could be riled up, that’s exactly what she was doing. She continued to elude its attacks and stepped closer and closer to the creature until she was within range to strike. She lifted her sword and swung from the right to the left, her gaze aimed right at the point where its leg met its body—

 _Thunk_.

Sweat rolled down her back. _Shit_ , _fuck_ , that didn’t sound good, that didn’t sound good at all. Was her sword useless, too? Her mind reeled and she tugged on her sword. Her eyes widened in horror when she realized in that instant that _it was stuck_.

She cried out when a sharp blade stabbed into her shoulder. Then she was jerked into the air, which made the pain worse. Her breathing came out hard and uneven as her eyes found that the creature’s spear arm was buried into her shoulder. Her new, gaping injury stung as if it was a blazing fire. Tears rolled down her face as she bit her lip to try to suppress the pain to no avail. It hurt, it hurt so much, and it was so cold—and even if she tried to pry herself out of the spear, was it really wise to risk the several feet she had to fall?

Suddenly, a roar reached her ears. _Serana_.

Vigdis didn’t get the chance to think of anything else before the Frost Atronach instantly disintegrated. She fell to the ground with a yelp and clutched her bloodied shoulder. She applied as much pressure as she could to the wound to stop the bleeding.

Something rumbled loudly behind her, but she didn’t care. She was losing so much blood that her head was already beginning to spin. She could barely keep her eyes open.

Cold hands cradled her face briefly before they vanished. Her eyes found Serana’s worried face, who had grabbed Vigdis’ pouch and rummaged fearfully through her belongings. She wanted to tell Serana that she would be all right, that she’s been through worse, but she didn’t have the strength to speak. The vampire quickly found a small health potion and pried open the bottle. When she brought the drink to her lips, Vigdis saw that blood was splattered across Serana’s pale face. After she drained its contents, the hunter felt some of her strength return to her. The wound didn't hurt so much anymore.

“You all right?” she croaked out.

Serana smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” She exhaled slowly. “The potion should hold you over until we find a proper healer. Can you stand?”

Vigdis nodded, and she used Serana as leverage to help herself up. She rested her forehead against the vampire’s temple. She breathed in her scent, glad that they had made it through the fight alive. She felt another gaze on them, and glanced over to see Knight-Paladin Gelebor, who stood solemnly in front of a wayshrine that had appeared.

“So, the deed has been done,” he stated. His words were matter of fact, but there was a twinge of sadness to them. “The restoration of this wayshrine means that Vyrthur must be dead and the Betrayed no longer have control over him.”

“It wasn’t the Falmer,” Vigdis told him. Serana turned towards Gelebor, although thankfully she still allowed Vigdis to lean on her. “Vyrthur was a vampire. He controlled them.”

Gelebor’s eyebrows lowered as he frowned. “A vampire? . . . I see. That would explain much.” His expression then softened. “Deep inside, it brings me joy that the Betrayed weren’t to blame for what happened here.”

“Why is that?” Serana asked. Her voice was light and soft, but Vigdis wondered if it was just a side effect of the potion.

“Because that means there’s still hope that they might one day shed their hatred and learn to believe in Auri-El once again. It’s been a long time since I felt that way, and it’s been long overdue. My thanks, to both of you.” He lifted his head so that his eyes were level. He seemed proud of them, but the hunter didn’t really understand why. “You risked everything to get Auri-El’s Bow, and in turn, you’ve restored the Chantry. I can’t think of a more deserving champion to carry it than you.”

Gelebor stepped aside to reveal the golden Bow of Auri-El inside the wayshrine. Vigdis held Serana’s hand as they approached it. Vigdis reached out curiously and brushed her fingers over its curves before she removed it from the pedestal. It fit rather nicely in her hands.

“It’s . . . not as shiny as I was expecting,” Serana admitted. “Still, it’s beautiful.”

The hunter glanced up so that her eyes met the vampire’s persimmon gaze. The way Serana’s face fell told Vigdis that her silent question had been conveyed through looks alone—and it had a hard answer.

“If we face him,” the hunter said slowly, “he’ll have to die.”

The vampire crossed her arms over her chest. Her pained expression alone hurt Vigdis more than words could say. She could never imagine having to slay her own father—that had already been done for her at the hands of another vampire when she was young. This entire mission had started because Vigdis sought revenge for his death, and now it would seemingly end with another father’s death.

Fate was ironic and cruel.

“I’ve thought about it for a long time,” Serana finally said. “It’s . . . it’s not easy. But I don’t think we have much of a choice.” She shook her head as her expression hardened with resolve. “No. This has to end, here and now.”

Vigdis, unsure of herself, stepped closer to Serana and rested a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. “Then we’ll face him. Together.”

The vampire met her gaze again, a small smile on her lips. “We should see if Isran is willing to lend a sword or two. Once we kick the front door open, we’ll be knee deep in his friends. Which, of course, makes everything more difficult.”

The hunter laughed softly and kissed her cheek. “I have no doubt that the old man’s dying for a good fight.”

She slid her hand down the vampire’s arm and held her hand, then gave it a tight squeeze. Serana returned the gesture. Neither of them voiced their dread as they stepped through the portal and vanished from The Vale.


	18. Kindred Judgement

**-[ <>]-Vigdis'** **Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

“Everyone! Gather round!”

Vigdis took Serana’s hand and stepped to the side as the other members of the Dawnguard filed in. Their ranks had slowly bolstered over the last few years, but Vigdis never stuck around long enough to know any of them. Isran stood in the middle of the rotunda and faced the other Dawnguard.

“For too long we've allowed these vampires to poison the night and kill our people!” he began. The hunter realized that this was his rallying speech. “Now, we finally have the means to strike back! We now have Auriel’s Bow.” He gestured beside him to Vigdis and the gleaming bow that was strapped to her back. “The gods themselves have favored us and we must answer with action! The time has come to finally put an end to Harkon and his unholy prophecy!” He took the warhammer from his back and into his hands. “We will march on their lair and destroy those wretched abominations so they can no longer corrupt our world! This is our fight—and this is our fate!” He raised his warhammer. “ _For the Dawnguard!_ ”

 _“For the Dawnguard!”_ the troops shouted back in unison. While they sounded confident, Vigdis wasn’t sure if they were ready for the war they were about to see.

The battle broke out as soon as their feet touched the dark shoal. Harkon’s lackeys poured out of the castle, and their gargoyle statues that decorated the stone bridge burst to life. The Dawnguard appeared overwhelmed, but not for long. Sorine and Durak shot from the abandoned tower with their crossbows; Florentius cast numerous spells to protect the troops as well as himself; Gunmar hacked enemies away with his war axe and sent his armored trolls after the gargoyles; Isran smashed bodies and faces with his warhammer. Vigdis had never seen so much blood.

A vampire leaped towards Vigdis with bared fangs, but she was quick to draw her sword and slash them across their chest. They clawed at her boots—and before she could even think to smash in their face with her foot, an ice shard pierced their eye and they crumbled to ash. She turned to see the cold mist that emanated from Serana’s hand.

“Vigdis, go!” Isran suddenly bellowed above the noise of battle, catching the hunter’s attention. “We’ll hold them off! _GO!_ ”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Vigdis ran headfirst into the wave of enemies, though she knew Serana was right behind her. She swung her sword whenever she could and managed to injure vampires here and there, with varying degrees of success. When she broke free of them, she and Serana crashed through the wooden castle door and darted to the balcony to find more vampires that awaited them in Harkon’s court. They gladly rushed them at the stairs, where some of them perished under Vigdis’ blade or Serana’s magic. The vampires that remained hissed and fled, most likely to join the fight that still raged outside. One particularly livid vampire tried to choke Vigdis, but she bashed his head with the butt of her sword and kicked him away as he collapsed to the ground.

“This way!” Serana shouted. Vigdis followed her lead without question—they moved past the court and up a small set of stairs to the left where they met an iron gate. Serana pulled the chain on the wall to her right, and the gate rose slowly. The hunter took this moment to catch her breath and tried to ignore how fast her heart thrummed in her chest.

They crouched under the gate once it was halfway up and stopped in front of a pair of old wooden doors. The vampire placed her hand on its surface and looked at Vigdis, a question in her persimmon eyes. The hunter put her hand beside Serana’s and nodded. Together, they pushed it open.

Harkon, in his true and terrible Vampire Lord form, waited for them. The large room was built of blackish grey stone, and behind Harkon was an altar that oozed of red ichor. A shrine to Molag Bal, Vigdis realized. It smelled of dust and stone, and the corners were draped with cobwebs. There were stairs on either side that went up onto a balcony above and in front of them. The hunter hoped that Harkon couldn’t sense how tense she was.

“Serana, my darling,” he began in a disdained drawl. His eyes were focused on Serana. “I see you still favor keeping a _pet_.”

“You know why we’re here,” Serana responded coldly.

“Of course I do. You disappoint me, Serana. You’ve taken everything I provided for you and thrown it all away for this . . .” His eyes glanced momentarily at Vigdis with pure disgust. _“Pathetic_ being.”

“Provided for me? Are you insane?” The hunter noticed that Serana’s hands had curled into fists, but her voice stayed level and strong. “You’ve destroyed our family. You’ve killed other vampires—all over some prophecy that we barely understand!” She unsheathed her dagger. “No more. I’m done with you. And you will not touch her.”

Vigdis felt her cheeks grow warm yet did her best to remain serious. Now was not the best time to swoon over her lover’s protective nature. Maybe if they survived this, then . . .

“So, I see this dragon has fangs. Your voice drips with the venom of your mother’s influence.” His expression scrunched up into a sneer. “How _alike_ you’ve become.”

Serana shook her head. “No . . . Because unlike her, I’m not afraid of you. Not anymore.”

Harkon clicked his tongue, as if to give up. Then, his eyes found Vigdis’. It was her turn to be berated, it seemed.

“It appears I have you to thank for turning my daughter against me,” he said in a mocking tone. “I knew it was only a matter of time before she’d return with hatred in her heart.”

“Pretty sure that was your doing,” she replied sharply. “It’s not my fault you neglected your own family.”

“A small price to pay for the betterment of our kind.” His voice shifted, as if he were amused. “And what happens when you’ve slain me? Is Valerica next? Is Serana?”

Vigdis’ stomach dropped. All those times Serana had fallen into danger, or when Serana risked herself to save her . . . She couldn’t even think to hurt the vampire after everything they had been through. Not anymore.

“I would never hurt her,” she snarled, “because I love her.”

Harkon’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the confession. The hunter wondered what Serana’s face looked like, but she didn’t dare look away from him.

“Then my daughter is truly lost,” he said bitterly. “She died the moment she accepted a mortal into her life.” He shifted his wings, agitated. “Enough of this. I grow weary of speaking to you and my traitorous daughter. I’ll give you a single chance to turn over the bow to me. There will not be a second.”

A light, sarcastic chuckle left Vigdis’ throat. “Over my dead body.”

_“_ **_Very well, then! You leave me no choice!_ ** _”_

Power erupted from his form as his spread his fleshy wings. Vigdis grabbed for Auriel’s Bow and dove to her left behind a stone pillar. A familiar _vwoom_ rattled her ears and she glanced around the corner to see that Harkon had summoned skeletons and gargoyles. Vigdis cursed under her breath and nocked an arrow, but then a powerful spell blasted one of the skeletons across the room before it crumbled to dust. She recognized it as one of Serana’s spells, and as another spell whizzed by to strike a gargoyle in the chest, she realized that the vampire would deal with the minions—and leave her to deal with Harkon.

A massive amount of force struck the pillar, and the hunter swiftly stepped out of Harkon’s line of sight. A giant Vampiric Drainball flew past her and hit the reinforced doors, which confirmed that he had tried to aim for her before. Right after another one of his spells grazed the pillar, she turned the corner with her arrow drawn and released it. It flew and pierced Harkon’s right hand, who howled in pain and rage. She reached for another arrow, but Harkon summoned a skeleton right next to her with his left hand. Taken off guard, she swung her bow around and cleanly knocked the skeleton’s head off. She then rushed out into the open to face him head on, but he had transformed into a swarm of bats. On top of that, there were now several undead enemies—and they came straight for Vigdis.

She held Auriel’s Bow in one hand as the other unsheathed her sword, just in time to slash one of the skeletons across his ribcage. She ducked the axe swing from another then cut through its femurs. She rolled past a third skeleton and knocked out its pelvis with a strong, blunt hit from the hilt of her sword. As their bones crashed to the ground, Vigdis looked up to see Serana overwhelmed with two gargoyles. Just as an ice shard pierced the face of one, the other slashed its sharp claws. The vampire flew off the balcony and cried out as her back slammed onto the old stone.

Vigdis dropped her Nordic blade. Panic coursed through her veins as she scrambled for an arrow from her quiver. She cursed as she drew two reeds and the gargoyle’s black eyes found her. It bared its sharp teeth as she pulled the arrows back against the bowstring, then released them just as it charged towards her. She dodged out of the way as it became limp and slid across the ground before it came to a stop. It was dead.

The hunter glanced worriedly in Serana’s direction, then let out a small sigh of relief when she saw the vampire twitch. She was alive, at least. Hurt, but alive.

She turned around to see Harkon, who floated above his bloodied altar with a magical barrier around his form. She realized that he was regaining his strength and shot an arrow towards the shield without thinking. To her surprise, it broke the barrier, and it shook the cathedral enough that she lost her balance. Harkon snarled and descended from the altar, then instantly vanished into mist. Before Vigdis could curse and attempt to guess where he would be, a vivid green spell streaked across the room.

Harkon materialized in front of his altar, bent over in agony.

 _“Now, Vigdis!”_ Serana shouted.

The hunter drew an arrow. She took a deep breath, then let it fly as she exhaled. She watched as the arrow dug into Harkon’s neck; it pierced deep enough that the tip of the arrow could be seen on the other side. He coughed and gargled as blood spilled from his mouth and neck.

He looked up, and his persimmon eyes met his daughter’s. They swirled with betrayal.

“Serana . . . your own father . . .”

His vampiric form melted away into a pile of blood red ash. Vigdis, without a second thought, rushed over to Serana and knelt next to her. She cupped her pale face in her hands.

“Are you all right?” Vigdis asked shakily, pushing loose strands of dark brown hair out of her lover’s face. She wrapped her arms around the vampire and gently stood up with her. “Are you hurt?”

Serana silently leaned into the hunter’s touch, her eyes closed. Her tense shoulders relaxed, and she breathed out a long, exhausted sigh. Vigdis realized that the vampire now had more than just death on her hands; her father’s blood and ashes would stain them forever. She knew that it would take time for the stains to not be so obvious anymore, but she would stay by her side no matter what.

“I’ll be fine,” Serana finally murmured. Her eyes opened and she slowly pulled away from Vigdis with a wince, which made the hunter frown. They both approached Molag Bal’s altar and stared at her father’s blood red ashes as Isran came up beside them. The hunter glanced towards him but didn’t turn her head.

“So, it’s over,” he said. “He’s dead, and the prophecy dies with him.” He looked at Serana and shifted, as if he struggled to find something to say. “I . . . I suppose this was difficult for you.”

Serana didn’t speak for a long moment. When she did, her voice was thick with sadness—and maybe regret, too. “I think my father really died a long time ago. This was just . . . the end of something else.” She straightened, and her voice hardened. “I did what needed to be done. Nothing more.”

Isran shook his head. “I think perhaps . . . I think you did more than that. You have my thanks.”

Without a word, Vigdis slid her hand into Serana’s and gently squeezed it. Vigdis looked over at Isran, who clearly wanted to say something to her—but she shook her head. He seemed to get the message and quietly left the cathedral, the two of them alone once again. The hunter’s eyes were fixed on Serana’s face, but the vampire wouldn’t look at her.

“Serana,” she murmured uncertainly. Serana’s glassy gaze came into focus and she finally met Vigdis’ eyes. The smile on her lips was sad.

“It’s done now,” she began lowly, her voice hardly above a whisper. “It’s . . . this is the end.”

Vigdis frowned. Their hands were still laced together, and she gripped the vampire’s hand tightly. She was scared. “For us?”

Serana searched the hunter’s eyes. Then, she lifted their linked hands and kissed the top of her freckled hand.

“Not for us.”

Heat flowered on Vigdis’ cheeks again. She cleared her throat awkwardly, which earned her a small chuckle from Serana.

“If, uh . . .” Vigdis bit her lip. She wasn’t good at this genuine romance. Maybe it was a flaw she would always have. “If you’re still up for adventures . . . I’d love to have you come along.”

Serana’s persimmon eyes glowed with joy in the dark, ancient cathedral.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“What you said before,” Serana asked as they crossed the large stone bridge that led up to the castle, “were you serious?”

Vigdis, who had been busy with mentally counting the bodies scattered within and outside the castle, froze.

“What did I say before?” the hunter inquired, her voice an octave higher than normal. She knew exactly what she had said before. She had admitted that she loved Serana. She had said it because a part of her was certain that they were about to die—what better time to confess and clear her conscious? But they survived. They won with casualties. And now . . .

“You told my father you loved me.”

 _Oh fuck_.

Vigdis bit down roughly on her lip and crossed her arms over her chest. Why did this feel so humiliating to her? She wasn’t familiar with these feelings and saying that out loud just made her feel so vulnerable. She sighed in frustration and faced the vampire with what she hoped was a stoic expression.

“I do,” the hunter said stiffly. “Love you. Yes.”

Serana raised an eyebrow as the hint of a smirk stretched her pale lips. Vigdis was at a loss for words and continued to stare at her until, finally, Serana shook her head.

“I've known for a while now,” she admitted with a laugh. “It was just nice to hear.”

Vigdis felt as though her body was aflame. She thought she would die of embarrassment. She groaned and pressed a freckled hand to her face as Serana laughed without restraint. The vampire took the hunter’s free hand in her own.

“Come on, Vigdis. Adventures don’t make themselves.”


	19. Bloodied & Human

**-[ <>]-Serana's** **Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

“Serana?”

The vampire turned to the hunter and tilted her head curiously. “Yes?”

Vigdis bit her lip, which prompted Serana to raise her eyebrow in question.

It’s been four months since they . . . killed . . . her father. Serana still suffered from occasional spells of despair, but Vigdis had proved to be kind and comforting whenever it happened; she felt the most human in those moments. She was learning to cope with it, slowly but surely.

But his death meant their freedom. They still met resistance from rogue vampires on the road, but they no longer had an obligation to return to Fort Dawnguard or report to Isran. They had stopped the vampire menace, and if it ever emerged again, the pair would be called upon to aid them once more. For the time being, they were free to do as they wished—so long as they didn’t cause too much trouble. The hunter quickly expressed a worldly curiosity; she wanted to travel all over Skyrim and travel to the places she had missed out on before. The vampire, without a second thought, was more than happy to join her.

Right now, the two of them were cooped up in an abandoned yet cozy cabin northeast of Windhelm to avoid a vicious snowstorm. And Vigdis wouldn’t meet her eyes. Serana wondered what could possibly be on her mind.

“Have you ever . . . thought about being human again?”

Serana blinked. Then she shifted uncertainly. “No . . . why?”

The hunter shrugged awkwardly. Her fingers kept entwining and coming apart, as if she didn’t know what to do with them. “Just . . . just thought maybe . . . I mean . . . You wouldn’t have to be so thirsty all the time.”

The vampire chuckled. “You make a good point.” She paused. “Is there even a cure to begin with?”

Vigdis nodded. “I’ve . . . heard rumours. There’s a man named Falion—a wizard that caused a lot of uproar in Morthal—, and apparently . . . he can cure it.”

Serana pressed her lips together in thought. _Did_ she want to be cured? She didn’t know—she hadn’t thought about it before. She’d been a vampire for so long . . . She couldn’t remember what it felt like to be human. Those memories were so distant and foggy now.

“I’m not saying . . . that you have to,” Vigdis said nervously. “I—”

“Will you wait for me?”

The hunter paused. But when her icy eyes found her own, they didn’t waver.

“You know I would wait a thousand eras for you, Serana.”

Serana grinned and pecked her lover’s lips. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

It wasn’t easy. Serana and Vigdis hadn’t really spent any time apart since before they met her mother. It was strange to leave her side, but Serana insisted—she had to do this alone. Vigdis, although reluctant, respected her decision, much to her relief.

“I’ll see you again soon,” Serana murmured lovingly before she gave Vigdis one last kiss.

“You better,” Vigdis grumbled. When the vampire laughed, there was the hint of a smile on her lips. “I’ll stay here, so . . . Come back to me.”

Serana travelled to Morthal within a few days’ time. The stars glittered in the moonless sky when she arrived. She casually asked one of the guards about a wizard, and he very willingly gave her the information she needed; he even went so far as to point out his home. When she found his door open and stepped inside in the dead of night, she wasn’t surprised to find the Redguard mage with a conjured sword. The violet glow cast light onto his dark face, which was twisted in anger and hostility.

“Stay where you are, vampire,” he hissed. Her eyebrows raised ever so slightly. She calmly pushed down her hood.

“You must be Falion,” she said coolly.

“Either state your business or leave, before I—”

“I heard that you know how to cure vampirism.”

The Redguard narrowed his eyes. He seemed to decide that she was no threat, so he hesitantly lowered his weapon. “I know many things. I have studied things beyond the reach of most humans, travelled the Oblivion planes, seen things one should not see. Yes . . . I can bring life to your dead body, vampire. But it requires a ritual at dawn and a filled black soul gem.”

A sense of dread and fear gripped Serana. “Will it work so easily for a Daughter of Coldharbour?”

“A vampire is a vampire,” he said with a frown. “In theory, it should work . . . But I will take more time and caution in the preparations if that will please you.”

The vampire nodded, her shoulders still tense with anxiety. “Fine. I’ll be staying here, if you don’t mind.”

“By all means. Just don’t bite me.”

Over the next several days and nights, Falion spent most of his time tinkering with a black soul gem, reading ancient tomes, asking her the occasional question about her condition, or disappearing into the woods. One night, he asked her a simple question:

“How did you become a Daughter of Coldharbour?”

She immediately stiffened. He quickly added, “I’m not asking about the ritual, I know that part. I was asking more about how you became chosen.”

Serana relaxed somewhat. She shifted into a more comfortable position. “My father wanted to beat his own mortality. So he started sacrificing innocents in the name of Molag Bal. We became his devout followers; and when my father proved powerful in his own right, he bestowed the gift of vampirism. On his summoning day . . . my mother and I took part in the ceremony.” She gritted her teeth as the memory threatened to seep in. She focused on the details on the old wooden wall to keep herself distracted. She flinched when his hand rested on her shoulder.

“Say no more,” he murmured gently. “Thank you . . . for answering me.”

Agni, his young apprentice, was a very curious child and rather entertaining, to say the least. Whenever she was left alone, she found herself wondering what Vigdis was up to. She smiled and chuckled to herself at the idea of the poor vampire hunter getting bored. She hoped that her lover had found something to occupy herself while she was gone.

Finally, Falion breathed a long and heavy sigh.

“It is done,” he said. His voice was hoarse and gravelly from his sleepless nights. He stood up. “Come, Serana. It is almost dawn.”

Serana anxiously followed Falion out into the swamps. They had travelled a short distance before they came upon the Summoning Stones. He gestured for her to stand in the center, which she did. She could feel the sun rising—her skin was starting to itch. He took a long, deep breath, then spoke.

_“I call upon Oblivion Realms, the home of those who are not our ancestors. Answer my plea! As in death there is new life, in Oblivion there is a beginning for that which has ended. I call forth that power! Accept the soul that we offer! As the sun ends the night, end the darkness of this soul—return life to the creature you see before you!”_

Serana’s eyes shut against her will. She felt like she was floating and suffocating. Then, she fell into blackness.

When Serana came to, she was laying in Falion’s bed back at his house. She sat up slowly and pressed a hand to her head.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Serana turned to see Falion in the corner peering over the book in his hands. “I was afraid you were lost.”

“You mean dead?” she deadpanned. “Good to know you were worried about me.”

He shook his head and closed his book. “How do you feel?”

Serana pressed the back of her hand to her cheek. Instead of a numb, cold feeling, it was warm and comforting. She inhaled deeply, and immediately noticed that iron and sweat didn’t permeate her nose—she could clearly smell the old wood, the faint fragrance of alchemy, the smoke from the fire, the vegetable soup that cooked away in the pot. When she strained her hearing, she couldn’t detect Agni or Falion’s heartbeats. The fire crackled, the wood creaked, the soup bubbled, the apprentice rustled in her bed, the Redguard mage shook his leg. It was undeniable proof that Falion’s ritual had worked.

“I feel . . . human,” she said in disbelief. “I can’t believe it worked.”

“Neither can I,” he chuckled.

Serana opened her mouth to say more, but her stomach growled and effectively cut her off. The sensations felt so strange, yet so familiar. It would definitely take some getting used to.

“As expected, you’re starving,” the mage joked. “Let’s put some human food in your system, shall we?”

It took some time for Serana to begin to readjust to her new human existence. Her magic prowess was still very much intact, much to her relief, although she was surprised when she could still perform some vampiric spells despite being human again. When she asked Falion about it, he shook his head.

“I only have theories,” he told her. “When you first awoke, I noticed the flecks of orange mixed in your green irises. My guess is that because you were a pure vampire—a Daughter of Coldharbour—for thousands of years, you kept some of your abilities. Purging you completely would require your death, which was not what I was attempting to achieve.”

Although Falion was against it, Serana decided to leave his home in three days. She argued that someone was waiting for her, and she couldn’t delay any longer than she already had.

“You’re still too weak,” Falion disagreed. “You need more time to recover.”

“I’ve recovered enough,” she snapped. “I’m still a mage. I can defend myself that way if I have to.”

Eventually, he realized that he couldn’t convince her, and so let her go. He helped her prepare for the journey back as best as he could, doing so much as to give her plenty of food. He warned her of the dangers one last time, and she reassured him that she would be fine. With that, she left Morthal behind and headed back towards the abandoned headed back towards the abandoned cabin where Vigdis—hopefully—waited for her.

Cold exhaustion settled on Serana’s shoulders as night fell. She was deep into the swamps already, but she could tell that she still had several more days of travel left. She decided to set up camp and started a fire, then breathed a sigh of fondness as the warmth of the flames engulfed her fingers and face. She fetched a loaf of potato bread and ate it slowly.

A branch snapped behind her. She furrowed her brow and glanced over her shoulder. A familiar mace smashed into the side of her face and sent her sprawling across the ground. Her brain kicked into high gear as adrenaline pumped through her veins; she shook her head and scrambled to get up until she was being pulled up by her hair. Her teeth dug into her lip to keep herself from screaming in pain—it was clear that her usually high pain tolerance hadn’t adjusted to her new body.

“You’re . . .”

Serana craned her neck back—and fear shot through her as persimmon eyes set in olive skin stared back at her.

“Yotul,” she breathed.

The vampire’s lips pressed together in a thin line as her nostrils flared. “You’re human.” Serana winced as Yotul’s grip on her dark hair tightened. “ _Why are you human?_ ”

“As if that’s any of your business.”

The Orc snorted, then laughed; when it subsided, a smile born from disbelief and madness spread across her lips.

“It’s my lucky day,” she murmured. Before Serana could react, Yotul slammed her head into the ground. She grunted in pain as her head spun and her body went numb. Then, slowly, she was met with blackness once again.

Metal . . . Stone . . . Dust . . .

Serana stirred. She pressed her hand to her pounding head as her senses returned to her. The smell of metal and dust overwhelmed her, and yet she couldn’t place it. The stone was rough and frigid beneath her fingers, which brought attention to the fact that she felt so cold. Where . . . ?

“ _It’s my lucky day_.”

Her eyes snapped open. She bolted upright in horror.

She was caged. And she was home.

Her stomach churned at the familiar sight of the Molag Bal shrine in front of her; blood still oozed out of the figure’s mouth into the pool beneath it. The blood red ashes of her father were gone, but she still remembered where they used to be . . .

“Should I welcome you home, Serana?”

Serana turned towards the voice to her right, her expression hardened to hide her startle. Yotul sneered as the mace in her hand gleaned menacingly under the dark light.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” Serana asked, a hint of reluctance in her tone.

The Orsimer tilted her head. “To lure the other half of my lord’s killer, of course. Why else?”

Her eyes widened. Every muscle in her body tensed in fear and horror. She wanted to argue that Vigdis wouldn’t fall for such an obvious trap, that she wouldn’t show up . . . Except . . . she knew that wasn’t true.

“And how will you do that? She doesn’t know I’m here.”

A sadistic smile crept across the Orc’s lips. Wrong again.

“There’s nothing a lock of a lover’s hair and letter won’t do,” she mused. “Your hunter will be here any day now. She was always such a gullible and predictable fool when it came to you. And it makes everything so much _easier_. _”_

“What makes you think you’ll get away with this?” Serana spat, her lips trembling. “She’ll kill you.”

Yotul stood up and walked over to the cage. She rested her mace against its bars, as if to threaten her. She peered through with her glowing eyes that swirled with hate and pain. Serana gritted her teeth. She didn’t have the power to cast any magic; she could tell that her body had still not adapted to its new condition. Why didn’t she take Falion’s advice and wait until her strength returned? Her eagerness to see Vigdis again had cost her more than she could’ve imagined.

Suddenly, a thundering _boom_ shuddered the old stone and caused the cage to quake. Serana’s stomach sank even further as Yotul glanced towards the grand doors; her mace now hung by her leg, her grip firm around its handle. Hard footsteps echoed from beyond in the silence. Serana’s heart sped with every step.

Finally, they stopped. Then, with considerable force, the doors swung open.

_“YOTUL!”_

Vigdis, her face twisted with fury and hate, crossed into the cathedral. In her left hand, she grasped her Nordic sword so tightly that her freckled knuckles were white. Her Stalhrim bow and quiver of arrows stayed strapped to her back. Her fur armour was nowhere to be seen; she adorned her tougher leather armour, detailed with steel and silver accents. Her red hair had few braids throughout; it was loose and framed her scarred face. Her eyes were no longer those icy glaciers—instead, they were alight with the flames of the hottest blue fires. Serana had never seen the vampire hunter more prepared, or more terrifying. Before her stood a goddess of war who would die to achieve her ends.

“You received my message, did you?” Yotul bemused with a sneer. She moved to stand in front of the shrine and rolled her shoulders. “Those couriers are ever so resourceful.”

The hunter, who now stood in the middle of the room, looked over and met Serana’s eyes. For a moment, her anger vanished and was replaced with what the former vampire recognized as pain and desperation. It took everything to not reach out for her. Her heart crumbled when their gaze broke and Vigdis returned her stare to the Orc. Her lip curled and her jaw tightened.

“Hmph. Harkon died because he was all talk. I see now that you’ll share his fate,” the hunter taunted coldly.

Without warning, Yotul charged forward, her mace raised above her head. She let out a roar as she slammed down, but the hunter had dodged to the left just in time so that the mace’s head crashed into the stone ground.

Serana watched their battle helplessly. Some of her energy had returned now that she was fully awake, but it wasn’t enough to conjure a spell that could incapacitate Yotul. And . . . in this state . . . she would most likely hit Vigdis instead and guarantee her death.

So, on they danced, mace against sword, vampire against hunter, Orc against Nord, death against death. She flinched every time Vigdis grunted in pain after Yotul landed a successful hit. Vigdis continued to pull back as the Orc came after her relentlessly. Eventually, Vigdis’ back was against the oak doors, with the vampire’s mace just inches above her head. Her arms were visibly shaking from the force of keeping it there with her sword.

“Getting tired already?” the Orc taunted with a snarl. “And here I thought you would put up more of a fight!”

Vigdis clenched her teeth and dropped her arm. She narrowly dodged the attack when she slipped past Yotul on her left. She stopped in the center of the room and turned, her back now towards Serana as her sword hung from her freckled hand. The vampire faced the hunter and slowly moved towards her, then laughed under her breath.

“Forfeit your lives,” Yotul spat.

Still breathing hard, the hunter shifted her stance and held her sword with both of her hands. “I’ll consider it if you ask nicely.”

The Orc broke into a run and lifted her mace over her head once again. Vigdis sidestepped and slashed the vampire’s torso, who screamed and bent over in pain. The hunter easily maneuvered around behind the vampire and stabbed her in the back—but Yotul swung around with her fist and sent Vigdis flying across the cathedral. Serana cried out in terror as she crashed onto the floor with a _thud_. After she tried to scramble away with little success, the hunter looked up to see Yotul already standing over her, her father’s Nordic sword still in her back. Fresh tears fell onto Serana’s face as the Orc raised her mace.

This was it. This was the end.

“Are you ready to die?”

Vigdis glanced over at Serana before they flickered back to Yotul. Serana felt confused hope. What—?

“Are you?”

Vigdis kicked the vampire in the knee, who howled and fell to the ground. The hunter then snatched the mace from her hand and bashed Yotul’s face again, and again, and again, until her body slumped and barely moved. When Vigdis stopped, the Orc seemed to breathe out a few words before she became completely still.

Yotul, the vampire Orsimer and once devoted follower of Lord Harkon, now laid across the cathedral floor as nothing more than a lifeless and almost unrecognizable shell. Vigdis rushed over to Serana’s cage, the Mace of Molag Bal beside her as the Orc began to crumble into dust.

“Are you all right?” Serana asked weakly as the hunter fumbled with the lock. Vigdis didn’t answer and she cursed under her breath. She took the mace and stood back, then Serana took the hint and moved away from the door as Vigdis lined up the head with the lock. She succeeded in breaking it after a couple of shaky swings and pulled open the door.

Serana was about to rush into her lover’s arms until she began to take in all her injuries. Busted lips, open wounds on both of her shoulders, several on her arms, a gash on her leg . . . Tears stung her eyes again.

“You’re hurt,” she whispered brokenly as she cradled her freckled face in her hands. Anger blossomed in her chest. “You idiot! You could’ve died! You knew this was a trap, that Yotul was after you . . . Why did you come? Why . . . ?”

Vigdis smiled ever so softly. It was a smile Serana had never seen before. She covered one of Serana’s hands with her own, whilst the other brushed a few strands of her dark hair away from her face before she cupped and stroked her cheek.

“You really think I would let the woman I love get killed?” she asked, her voice hoarse. “And don’t pretend that you wouldn’t have done the same in my place . . . I can’t live without you. The least I could do was try.”

Serana, for once, was at a loss for words. In her long life, no one had risked their own lives for her. But Vigdis . . . Vigdis always had. Perhaps, not at first, when they viewed each other as enemies; but once their companionship had formed, they were bound to each other. And to know that Vigdis had willingly and knowingly made this decision to walk into Yotul’s trap if it meant even the smallest chance of saving her . . .

“Let’s get out of here,” Vigdis grunted out, snapping Serana out of her thoughts. “Please? Everything hurts . . . and I know you hate it here.”

Serana nodded and pulled one of the hunter’s arms over her shoulders. She apologized quietly when the other flinched. Together, they strode out of Castle Volkihar.


	20. Dragonborn

**-[ <>]-Vigdis'** **Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

_“There once was a hero named Ragnar the Red . . .”_

Vigdis smiled slightly as she took another sip of her mead. Her boot tapped gently against the tavern’s wood floor. Wilhelm, the owner of Vilemyr Inn, gave her a strange look.

“What?” she asked with a raised brow.

He jumped at her question, then tried to shrug it off with a chuckle. “I didn’t think you vampire hunter types were the kind to smile.”

She rolled her eyes. That comment alone had been one of the dumbest things she had ever heard. But she said nothing else, and so he left her alone to check up on his other patrons. Serana, who sat beside her, nudged her arm with her elbow. Vigdis glanced over and caught her green persimmon-speckled eyes.

“Lighten up,” the dark-haired Nord whispered with a slight smile.

“Pth. ’S hard to do when they’re idiots,” the hunter grumbled.

Serana poked her again, rougher this time. “Try harder, then.”

Vigdis narrowed her eyes into a glare, which earned her a chuckle. Serana’s emerald eyes fell and gazed into the mug in her hands. The smile was faint on her pale lips. Admittedly, the redhead was still not used to her lover being . . . human. She missed her persimmon eyes, her cold breath and touch.

Then again, she was glad that she didn’t have to find someone for her to drink anymore.

The door flew open. Vigdis peered over her shoulder for a moment before she decided it wasn’t worth her time and raised her drink to her lips. The heavy footsteps approached them just as she slowly set down her mug.

“You there!”

The freckled woman shared a glance with Serana. Her Nord companion nodded. With a quiet sigh, she turned. She was met with a group of three, dressed in honey desert robes and carved white masks. She had no idea who they were, and it made her nervous. She didn’t get a chance to open her mouth before the man closest to her spoke again.

“Are you the one they call Dragonborn?”

Her brow shot up. Dragonborn? What kind of title was that? It wasn’t something she was familiar with or had ever been called. A sense of wariness had settled over her and weighed on her shoulders.

“I think _vampire killer_ would be more fitting,” she responded flatly with a slight frown. The uneasy tug in her stomach didn’t go away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t deal with dragons.”

The masked individual raised his hand and jabbed his finger at her. “Your lies fall on deaf ears, Deceiver! We know you are the False Dragonborn! You shall not stand in the way of the true Dragonborn’s return. He comes soon, and we shall offer him your heart! When Lord Miraak appears, all shall bear witness. _**None shall stand to oppose him**!”_

Their stances shifted into battle as magic surged to their hands. Vigdis drew her sword right after Serana shot out an ice shard, which pierced one in their arm.

Chaos erupted as the innkeeper and his customers tried to flee the scene; most of them shouted for help as they tripped over their own feet. Vigdis’ sword cut through one of the masked one’s wards—the one that provoked her originally—and sliced him cleanly across his chest. He shot forth his hand as lightning arced from his palm and singed a piece of her hair. She lunged forward with her blade, which dug deeply into his gut. He sputtered and blood seeped down from behind his mask onto his yellow grass robes. His hand struck her throat and his fingers dug into her neck like a snake in an attempt to choke her, but a quick twist of her sword made him scream in agony and drop his hand. She jerked her blood-soaked weapon out of his body—he cried in pain at this motion—and glanced up to watch Serana finish off the last of the mages. Their eyes met, and the dark-haired woman walked over to her.

“Is he still alive?” she asked as they both looked down at him. Vigdis didn’t answer. Instead, she lifted her foot and applied pressure to the wound he clutched to. A whimper reached their ears, and when he jutted out his hand, an ice shard struck his right eye. He fell limp against the floorboards. Vigdis knelt by his body and carefully checked the inner folds of his robes until she found a note. Serana peered over her shoulder and they read it silently together.

_Board the vessel Northern Maiden docked at Raven Rock. Take it to Windhelm, then begin your search. Kill the False Dragonborn known as Vigdis before she reaches Solstheim._

_Return with word of your success, and Miraak shall be most pleased._

“’Miraak’?” Serana inquired. Although the hunter wasn’t looking, she could tell that her lover’s eyebrow was perked up in confusion. “Never heard of him.”

“Neither have I,” Vigdis said coolly. She drew her eyebrows together as she read over the note again, unsettled by the situation. What were they talking about? And what did Miraak want with her? She shook her head slightly to resolve herself. “I guess we have no choice but to investigate it.”

She looked at Serana, whose eyes sparkled at the mention of another adventure. “I’m right behind you.”


	21. Raven Rock

**-[ <>]-Serana's** **Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

The boat creaked as the captain turned its hull towards the cliffs to round the bend. Serana watched in awe as a small village laid out before them, dotted with unique architecture that she had never seen before. Vigdis, who sat closer to the bow, seemed to be deep in thought. Serana admired her lover as the wind blew her fiery red hair and furs that briefly revealed the old yet sturdy leather armour underneath.

The red-haired Nord in question had worried the former vampire as of late. Ever since their run-in with the mysterious cultists, her nightmares had returned . . . and worsened.

“I thought they were gone,” Vigdis had admitted one quiet night on the road to Windhelm as Serana stroked her hair to comfort her. “I thought I was finally going to stop dreaming about dragons. But . . . they’re stronger, now. Somehow. Something . . .” She shook her head and had curled more into the other. _“Someone_ is calling me.” She gently traced Serana’s sharp collarbone and let out a shaky sigh. “I don’t know if this _Miraak_ will have my answers. But it’s the only lead I have.”

“We’ll find them,” Serana had murmured, kissing her head. “Together.”

The hunter had lifted her head at that and gave her a tired yet content smile.

“Well, here we are,” the captain said nervously, breaking into Serana’s memory and bringing her back to the present. “This is Raven Rock. Can’t say I’m all that glad to see it again.” He guided the boat gently to the dock. “Good luck. Maybe you can find out what’s going on around here.”

The boat came to a stop, but Serana noticed that a handful of Dunmer waited to board. Vigdis stood up, and she went to the hunter’s side. They shared a glance as the Dunmer dressed in formal clothes approached them. He eyed them with suspicion, and Serana narrowed her eyes in retaliation. Her magic hummed under her fingertips.

“I don’t recognize you,” the Dunmer began in a distrusting tone, “so I’ll assume this is your first visit to Raven Rock. State your intentions.”

Serana glanced at Vigdis again, whose red eyebrow was raised ever so slightly. Her shoulders were square and tense, her freckled hand rested on the hilt of her sword.

“My business is my own,” she stated coldly, her eyes glinting with challenge. The Dunmer wrinkled his nose in disapproval.

“That’s the kind of attitude that’s going to land you in prison, but I’ll let it go for now.” He inhaled and took a moment to look over the both of them before he continued. “Just remember: Raven Rock is sovereign territory of House Redoran. This is Morrowind, not Skyrim. You will be expected to abide by our laws. Any questions?”

The former vampire nudged the hunter in the side with her elbow. Vigdis seemed to take the hint, although she was clearly reluctant to ask her question.

“We’re looking for someone. Their name is Miraak—do you know them?”

The Dunmer’s eyes lit up momentarily, but it faded instantly as his expression twisted in confusion. “I . . . I’m unsure. I swear I know the name, but cannot place it.”

“You really have no idea?” Serana pressed, hoping to get more information out of him. He shook his head, as if he, too, was disturbed by this revelation.

“I don’t think so. I’m not . . .” He paused in thought, his eyebrows drawn tightly in great concentration. “The name has something to do with the Earth Stone, I think. But I’m not sure what.”

The redhead nodded in acknowledgement, which marked the end of their conversation. Vigdis’ hand found Serana’s and she entwined their fingers. The brunette gave her a small squeeze, which was returned as the Dunmer turned his attention to the captain that had brought them there. Together, they stepped onto the dock and strolled towards the small town, their hands still locked.

After the pair passed under a sand-covered arch, Serana realized that the small town could be more accurately described as a village. To their right was another piece of the wall that they just passed under, which had an iron gate that was currently lifted to let people come and go. In front of them was a large oddly structured building that she could only assume was some kind of temple. She shuddered involuntarily, and Vigdis must have noticed it because she squeezed her hand again.

To their left were more buildings—three, to be precise—with the blacksmith’s shop connected to the wall and a dried up well in the center. A few Dunmer had markets set up outside of the buildings farthest away from them, while the building closest to them was marked as an inn. For once in her long life, Serana felt out of place; but not unpleasantly so. The atmosphere was warm and communal, something she had hardly experienced in the big cities of Skyrim. It brought a faint smile to her lips.

Vigdis tugged on her hand and led them into the inn. Exhaustion washed over her at the thought of getting some proper rest—neither her nor Vigdis had hardly slept on the boat ride to Solstheim. She hoped that her lover wouldn’t be haunted by nightmares this time.

They descended the staircase that led to the spacious main room of the inn, where a friendly Dunmer smiled at them from behind the bar. The hunter fetched a handful of Septims and placed them on the counter in front of him.

“For one room,” she told him.

“Of course,” he said, still smiling warmly at them. “There’s a free room right behind you. It’s yours for the night.”

Vigdis nodded, then gestured to the gold. “Keep the change.”

His smile widened just before they turned away and walked over to the bedroom. The redhead pushed open the door and walked inside with Serana. After she crossed the threshold, Serana took a moment to kick the door shut behind them. Vigdis faced her now and held both of her pale hands in her own rosy freckled ones.

“Would it annoy you if I asked for a kiss before we slept?” the hunter asked, her voice in a low whisper. The former vampire shivered and watched as Vigdis lifted her hands to gently kiss every knuckle. She then bumped their noses, a faint smirk on her lips. Whatever exhaustion had settled over her before was long gone.

“I can’t say no when you look at me like that,” Serana breathed. She freed her hands from the other’s grasp and raked her fingers through that fiery and tangled red hair she loved so much before Vigdis kissed her longingly. A small noise escaped the brunette’s throat, and in turn, the redhead grasped her thighs and lifted her up to wrap her legs around her waist.

Needless to say, both of them enjoyed a long and peaceful sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all I have written so far but went ahead and posted everything anyway. I'll write more soon!! [I hope . . . Fingers crossed!]


	22. Waking Dreams

**-[ <>]-Vigdis'** **Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

Vigdis was exhausted.

After gathering some information about Miraak from a snooty Dunmer wizard near the Earth Stone outside of Raven Rock, her and Serana set out to see the Temple of Miraak for themselves. When they finally arrived, they were stunned; countless people were building new constructions and muttered nonsense whenever they were approached—the same kind of nonsense that those at the Earth Stone had sputtered. They soon came across a woman named Frea who was begging her people to return to her village. After a short conversation, they agreed to infiltrate the temple together for answers.

The hunter eventually lost track of time as they continued to fight their way through cultists and Draugr and descend to the pits of the temple. She couldn’t tell whether hours or days had passed anymore. Every room had more questions than answers as alien structures became more prevalent. Each step brought more unease to Vigdis—she could feel that her once steady hands had begun to tremble. Serana brushed her fingers against her freckled hand every now and again, as if to remind her that she wasn’t alone.

They eventually reached a small circular room. It appeared to be a dead end, but there was a pedestal with a pull handle that was located just beneath an alien statue’s grotesque mouth. It would clearly open the grate in the floor that blocked off a spiraling staircase. Vigdis glanced at Frea, who also looked at her with apprehension.

“I leave the honour of pulling that handle to you,” the Skaal woman said quickly. “I do not want to put my hand anywhere near the mouth of that statue.”

The hunter didn’t bother to argue with her. She stepped towards the pedestal and reached forward. The statues hadn’t bothered her that much, but now that she faced one head on, it made her hesitate. She reached down for the dusted handle and swiftly thrust it up. The mechanism clicked and the grate clanked open. She backed away from the statue and silently released the breath she didn’t realise she had been holding.

The trio descended the stairs with Vigdis in front. They passed more freakish statues that housed warm fires in their mouths.

“It is eerily quiet,” Frea said as they filed into an enormous open cavern. “I do not suspect that will be the case the further we go. Be on your guard.”

Vigdis bit her tongue to stop herself from giving Frea a dirty look. Eerily quiet? Then what were those deep rumbling sounds that kept worming into her own ears? Was she just imagining it?

But Frea was right, much to the hunter’s dismay. Several skeletons and Draugr patrolled the massive corridor. At the base of the stairs, Vigdis noticed a tripwire on either side. She was able to sneak up to them and trigger the traps, which dropped boulders on the skeletons that were unaware of their presence. Vigdis motioned with her hand to signal that her companions could move forward. They joined her as they ascended the steps, with the freckled woman warily eyeing the dragon skeleton that decorated the center. She ignored the nausea that crept into her stomach.

When they reached the top, a Draugr that had been lying in wait burst from his coffin. The three of them were swift in cutting him down, the hunter swinging her sword at just the right angle so that his head became severed from his neck. When they sheathed their weapons, Vigdis spotted a pull chain and tugged on it. It creaked in response as the stone shifted and revealed a doorway beside her. Her stomach clenched at the sight of the tunnel before them, but she steeled her nerves and pressed on.

Once they finally reached the end, it spilled out into another disk-shaped room—this one much bigger than the one with the pull handle. The floor had intermittent grooves and encircled a strange woven pattern in the middle. A pedestal loomed in the center of the room and a lone thick book rested on it. Frea approached it cautiously as Serana gently bumped into the hunter’s shoulder. Vigdis instinctively gripped Serana’s sleeve.

“This book . . .” The Skaal woman began with a frown as she looked it over. “It seems wrong, somehow. Here, yet . . . not. It may be what we seek.”

She brushed her armoured fingers over it and Vigdis shuddered. The echoing ambience from before was louder this time and seemed to emanate from the book itself. She realized that it called to her specifically—and although she didn’t want to know why, she walked up to the book anyway. She felt Serana, who stood closely beside her, and it gave her some strength.

She took the book into her hands. The cover was black, the texture almost slimy. She pressed her fingers against the edge of the thin pages and flipped it open—

She jumped as slippery black tentacles oozed out of its pages towards her, but she couldn’t drop the book. It was as if it was stuck to her hands. In her horror, they wrapped themselves around her and her vision instantly went black.

“The time comes soon, when . . .”

Her ice-blue eyes fluttered open. Although her sight was dark and bleary, she could make out three silhouettes—one was a man, accompanied by two creatures on either side of him.

_“What?”_

Before she could even think, the man blasted her with a spell, which forced Vigdis onto her hands and knees. She blinked until her vision cleared, then glanced up just as a dragon landed behind the mysterious man.

“Who are you to dare set foot here?” he boomed. Vigdis now noticed that two more creatures—which she now processed as floating masses of tentacles—were on either side of her. She tried to ignore the dragon that stared at her from behind the man; her stomach churned and her body trembled in fear. She glared at the masked man that towered over her. His golden mask resembled the faces of the beasts that floated beside him.

“Ahh,” the man continued, his tone mellow and precise, “you are Dragonborn. I can feel it.”

The hunter reeled. There was that word again—the word that the cultists had called her back in Ivarstead.

He tilted his head as if she puzzled him. “And yet . . . You know nothing of your own power. You truly have no idea of the true power a Dragonborn can wield.” He straightened his stance.

 _“Mul, Qah Diiv!”_ he shouted. In an instant, a strange power engulfed him. A transparent orange and blue armour had appeared over his murky robes. His power suffocated her. She was powerless and weak. If this man—who she now pieced together be none other than Miraak—was truly her enemy, how could she possibly hope to defeat him?

“This realm is beyond you. You have no power here. And it is only a matter of time before Solstheim is also mine. I already control the minds of its people. Soon they will finish building my temple, and I can return home.” He turned away from her and approached the dragon. The two creatures that had been by her side came up to her. “Send her back where she came from. She can await my arrival with the rest of Tamriel.”

Vigdis watched as he climbed onto the neck of the dragon. She cried out in pain as the creatures began to barrage her body with spells that made her skin feel like it had been slowly cut into a thousand pieces. As the dragon lifted off the ground with a flap of its wings, she used the last of her consciousness to memorise where she was.

The swirling green sky. The piles upon piles of books. The cold stone underneath her hands. The flying pages. The dark strands that streaked carelessly across the sky. The tattered fabric on the creatures’ backs. The wide maws that stared at her from their stomachs.

As the dragon roared above her, she closed her eyes and gladly vanished from that world.

Vigdis gasped. The book slipped from her hands and dropped the floor with a startling _thud_. She immediately began to cough and leaned on the pedestal for support. A pair of hands that she recognised as Serana’s held her shoulders and squeezed them.

“What happened to you?” Frea demanded as the hunter regained her breath. “You read the book and then . . .” She shook her head, as if she herself didn’t believe what she saw. “It seemed as though you were not really here. I could see you, but also see _through_ you!”

Vigdis couldn’t suppress her laugh or her bitterness as she pulled away from the pedestal. “Was that your experience?”

“Vigdis,” Serana said quietly, “what happened?”

The hunter shook her head. “I don’t even really know. There was a man—Miraak—he said I was Dragonborn.” She paused to glance at Serana before she continued. “He was extremely powerful. He said he could return home and claim Solstheim as his after the temple was finished being rebuilt.”

“Where?” Frea growled. “Where is he? Can we reach him? Can we _kill_ him?”

“She saw him in the book,” Serana told her, a hint of annoyance in her voice. She bent down and picked it up with relative ease. “So unless the rest of us can get inside, I don’t think he’s going to die any time soon.”

Vigdis chuckled under her breath. “You can try.”

Serana gave her a look. Vigdis grinned widely. The former vampire, without breaking her gaze, opened the book with a skillful flick of her hand. When nothing happened, the hunter sighed.

“It is a dangerous thing,” Frea warned as Serana firmly closed the book. “We should return to the village and show this to my father. Perhaps Storn can make sense of what is going on.” The Skaal woman moved past the two and gestured towards an open path that led away from the temple. “Come, there looks to be a way through here.”

“We’ll be right behind you,” Serana told her. As soon as Frea disappeared down the tunnel, the brunette turned to her lover with a worried expression. “Are you really all right? You look . . .”

The redhead quietly took the other’s pale hand. She raised it to her mouth and kissed her palm, her eyes momentarily shut. She gazed at Serana and have her hand a small squeeze.

“We can talk about it later,” she murmured. She dropped their hands, then interlocked their fingers. “Come on. Let’s go see what Frea’s father can do about that book.”

Serana smiled slightly and nodded. As they left the Temple of Miraak together, Vigdis couldn’t shake the feeling of unease and dread that had already snaked into her heart.


	23. The Gift of the Skaal

**-[ <>]-Serana's** **Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

The former vampire didn’t think she could fall any harder for her. The freckled Nord was quiet and yet had no fear when it came to speaking her mind. She was skilled equally in the art of the sword and bow, and surprisingly beautiful in action. Even when fear threatened to strangle the life out of the hunter, she came through to the other side, gorgeous and changed.

Serana was there when Vigdis slayed her first dragon, then her second. She was there when Vigdis approached the stone wall—which she described as thrumming with power—and walked away from it with a new fire in her icy eyes. Her breath was taken away when the hunter traversed the unfamiliar lands of Solstheim in search of the All-Maker Stones and used her newly found power to destroy evil’s hold on them. It sent chills down her spine to hear her lover shout and to feel the earth tremble in response. When their task was done and all of the enslaved Skaal had been freed, Vigdis and Serana returned to the village, where Frea waited for them.

“It’s done,” Vigdis told her as her hand lazily rested on the hilt of her sword. “Your people are free now.”

“Thank you,” Frea said with a smile. “We can now attempt to restore balance to our home.” She paused before she spoke again. “I do not think a simple ‘thank you’ should suffice for everything you have done. You travelled these lands that are unfamiliar to you and freed my people, who you do not know. Which is why I have a gift for you.” She grinned as she turned. “Follow me.”

Serana exchanged a curious look with Vigdis, who shrugged before they went after the Skaal woman. They entered what the brunette assumed was her home—a small, comfy, modest house that welcomed them with the smell of fresh ingredients and a fire. The blonde motioned for them to wait before she disappeared into a different room. Serana grew more puzzled when Frea returned with a smile, an odd set of armour neatly folded in her hands. The armour in question looked as if it was sculpted from ice, adorned with soft fur and deep blue fabric. She then thought of the bow that was attached to Vigdis’ back, which led her to wonder about the story behind it. She would have to ask about it later.

“This is Stalhrim,” she began. “It is enchanted ice that is as hard as iron and as cold as death. It has been used to encase the Nordic dead to protect them long after their families have passed. Our blacksmith, Baldor Iron-Shaper, crafted this armour as a gift to you.” She held it out towards Vigdis, whose eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Please, take it.”

“I’m . . . honoured,” the hunter said uneasily, “but are you sure you want to give this to me?”

Serana roughly elbowed Vigdis’ side and held back her hiss when she was glared at in return. Frea laughed.

“I am certain, friend.” The redhead reluctantly took the armour into her own hands as her eyes looked over it curiously. “May the All-Maker protect you, always.”

The brunette noticed Vigdis’ rosy cheeks darken as she nodded, her gaze still glued to the Stalhrim armour that she held. She wanted to giggle at her lover’s sudden shyness, but bit her lip to keep it in. When Frea turned to her, she became serious.

“I did not know what would be an appropriate gift for you,” the blonde admitted sadly. “Please forgive me.”

“No worries,” Serana told her nonchalantly. “I don’t really like gifts anyway.”

Vigdis snorted beside her. The former vampire elbowed her again, this time more subtly as she tried to keep a straight face. The Skaal woman looked puzzled but seemed to accept her answer.

“Now that you have cleansed the stones, my father may speak to you about Miraak and these Black Books. Go to him when you are ready.”

With a quiet farewell, Serana and Vigdis left Frea’s home. They agreed to camp near the village for the night, since the city of Raven Rock was a couple days away and they both were desperate to get some sleep.

They set up their tent outside of the village and its barrier, near the bridge where they had first laid eyes on it. Despite their exhaustion, Vigdis was impatient. Once inside the private confines on the tent, she stripped off her old furs and leather armour and eagerly tried on the Stalhrim armour—with some help ~~and kisses~~ from Serana.

“Well?” the hunter asked as she gestured to herself. “How does it look?”

The former vampire pursed her lips in thought. “Is it comfortable?”

“Very.” She shifted and fiddled with the fur that lined her gauntlets. The Stalhrim seemed to glow even in the darkness. “It’s warm, too.” The freckled woman paused and frowned. “This ore . . . Stalhrim . . . It’s the same as my bow.”

Serana nodded, then tilted her head. “What’s the story with that, anyway?”

“Well . . .” She sighed as if she were ashamed. “I stole it. It was one of those weird jobs I had a long time ago. Anyway, I didn’t think my pay was enough, so . . . I took it as extra payment. They didn’t like that, and they tried to come after me to take it back.” The corner of her lip twitched as she tried—and failed—to suppress her prideful smile. “It didn’t take them long to realise why that wasn’t the best idea.”

The former vampire grinned with her and chuckled. “I don’t doubt that.” She tucked some of her dark hair behind her ear. “Was that when you part of that bandit clan?”

“Yeah. We were typically supposed to do jobs with one other member or as a group, but I preferred working alone most of the time.” She began to twirl of strand of red hair around her freckled finger. “Hjaleif argued with me a lot, especially right before I left. He hated that I did whatever I wanted with no regards for anyone else.” She bowed her head as she knelt on the floor, then laid on the furs with an arm behind her head. “It’s not that I regret working with them—I don’t. They became a second family, even if I didn’t want them. It’s just . . .” Her icy blue eyes vanished behind her eyelids as her movements slowed. “I was lost after my father was killed. Hjaleif and his group tried to take advantage of my grief, and when they couldn’t, they trained me as one of them. I didn’t sign up willingly—I just needed to survive. And through them, I did just that.”

Serana carefully laid beside her and stroked her lover’s cheek. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “You never found his murderer, did you?”

The hunter forced out a shuddery breath. “No. I never did.”

Neither of them spoke again as they eventually succumbed to their exhaustion and slept soundly for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Stalhrim armour that Vigdis receives is referencing to the Alternative Armours -- Stalhrim Fur mod that can be bought from Bethesda's official Creation Club! The woman needed an upgrade since it was long overdue. c:


	24. Unearthed

**-[ <>]-Serana's** **Point of View** **-[ <>]-**

Serana stared at the inscriptions carved into the stone circle. She was on her hands and knees, too weak to stand. Her breath came out uneven and hard, her vision still blurred at the edges. The iron that wafted from the blood-drenched room permeated her nostrils. In these situations, she could still recall how she felt when that smell made her dizzy with thirst; now she could barely hold back a gag in response.

She lifted her eyes to see her lover, who had knelt and leaned against her sword to catch her breath. A pile of ashes sat next to her, the armour and strange mask that laid on it untouched. Her fiery hair and Stalhrim armour were tinged with crimson ichor. Fresh blood from a cut above her brow dribbled down the side of her freckled face to reach for her chin. Her ice-blue eyes were lidded with exhaustion.

“Oh, gods . . .”

Serana’s head snapped towards the voice. The Dunmer treasure hunter responsible for this mess, Ralis Sedarys, had stirred from unconsciousness. He sat up and shook his head with a groan. He blinked his dark red eyes and cast his gaze around the room, his expression drawn into silent horror.

“What happened?” he murmured, his voice trembling. “What have I done . . . ?”

The scrape of Vigdis’ sword across the ground caught the former vampire’s attention. She stormed across the space between them, her eyes ablaze with fury that Serana never wanted to be on the receiving end of. The hunter lifted her sword over her shoulder as she approached him, ready to deliver the final blow. As she took another step, she began to swing her blade down—

“Wait, _WAIT!_ ” Ralis shrieked as he cowered in on himself, holding up his hands. Her sword stopped mid-swing, her back to Serana. “Don’t—don’t kill me! Please!”

“And why shouldn’t I?” she snarled. “Do you even know what you’ve done!?”

He swallowed. His grey lips trembled. “I—I’ve heard whispers. Voices. Thoughts. Imaginings.” His eyes glazed over as the memory fell from his mouth. “They’ve only gotten louder since I’ve stayed. Pounding, driving. A couple of times I blacked out. It was . . . It was just before the Draugr woke up.”

Vigdis now pressed the tip her blade to the side of his neck and he flinched. Her voice came out cold and merciless. “So you killed the miners for your sick little game.”

Ralis shook his head frantically. Serana pitied him: he was a dastardly man, but he was clearly too cowardly to be a murderer. She glanced to Vigdis and wondered if her lover viewed him in the same light, or if her rage had blinded her to it. Either way, she would be indifferent to his death if Vigdis chose to kill him.

“I—I don’t know! I don’t know, I . . . Maybe?” He swallowed. “It’s what he wanted. He just needed their energy. I don’t know! I hope I didn’t. But . . . M—Maybe I . . . .” His gaze finally met the hunter’s. They were misty and pleading. “Please, you have to believe me!”

Vigdis stood as still as a statue. Her shoulders and back rose and fell with her hard breaths. Her empty hand was curled into a fist, but Serana could see the slight tremble in her wrist. For a moment, she questioned the redhead’s hesitation. Without her expression to read, she was cut off from the emotions that would be present on her freckled features.

Ralis had begged them for money to fund his excavation project. Every time the operation hit a snag, Vigdis delved back into the barrow, cleared out the Draugr, and paid him more gold to make up for his losses. The hunter had only grown more and more irritated with him with every letter she received, and Serana couldn’t figure out why she was helping him to begin with.

 _“It’s good practice,”_ Vigdis had mumbled when Serana had asked for her reasoning after the third payment. The former vampire had raised a brow in question but had dropped the subject when the hunter then shook her head.

When they had arrived at the camp for the last time, they found every miner and mercenary slaughtered. The Dunmer had been missing, which Serana immediately found suspicious. It didn’t take long for the pair to find Ralis’ journals; alarmed by their findings, and they rushed into the dungeon to stop the machinations of the newly awoken Ahzidal. While they had been successful in their quest to stop the Dragon Priest, Ralis was at the root of this massacre. Countless lives had been wasted at his hands; lives that could’ve been saved if he hadn’t been blinded by his own greed. Maybe he hadn’t killed them himself, but he was still the reason they had perished.

Serana watched Vigdis with interest. After a long moment of silence, the hunter dropped her shoulders and gestured her sword towards the exit.

“Get out.”

The brunette’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Ralis stammered, the words caught in his throat as gratitude overwhelmed him.

“Oh—! Oh, thank y—”

“And dig a hole for yourself to rot in,” the redhead growled. “I never want to see your face again—or next time, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

The treasure hunter nodded wildly. “O—Of course! You’ll never see me again.”

“Pray that I don’t.”

Ralis scrambled to his feet and dashed past Vigdis, then Serana, and flew out the southern entryway. The redhead stood quietly for several more moments as the brunette stood up. As she brushed off her hands and knees, Vigdis sheathed her blade came over to her. The former vampire lifted her head to watch the ice-blue eyes examine her figure.

“Are you hurt?” she asked softly, her voice empty of the cold malice it had contained before.

“I’m all right,” Serana assured her with a grin. “Nothing that a little magic can’t heal.” She paused when Vigdis sighed in relief, then bit her lip. “Why did you let him go?”

Her eyes flicked up to meet her own. Her pink lips bent into the slightest frown; her eyebrows lowered just enough to create a puzzled expression. Then, clarity flashed in her melted blue eyes, and she cast down her gaze.

“There’s been enough bloodshed, don’t you think?”

Serana continued to study her lover’s face in thought, even when the other carefully locked their fingers and pretended to not notice it. She compared the Vigdis that stood before her to the one that had opened her stone sarcophagus and realized that she and their adventures had truly changed this woman. The Vigdis of the past would have slayed Ralis without a second thought; her compassion and mercy had been stolen by the hardships of her life, and her view of the world had been darkened by her bitterness towards it.

But this Vigdis—the Vigdis she had fallen in love with—had spared his life.

Serana smiled and raised Vigdis’ knuckles to her lips, then kissed them softly. The hunter leaned forward and pressed her forehead against the other’s.

“Are you hungry?” the redhead inquired quietly. Her warm breath ghosted over the brunette’s face.

“I’m starving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! I'm sorry it's been so long. College has started back up and my five classes have been killing me in both motivation and inspiration. Good news is that I have at least five more Solstheim-related one-shot ideas swirling around, so I'll do my best to write them out when I find the time! I hope you're all having a beautiful day and staying safe! Take care~


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